Druella Malfoy and The Boy Who Lived
by maurik
Summary: AU. Her father had given her one task for her first year at Hogwarts: befriend The Boy Who Lived. However, that was before Druella Malfoy met the blabbering fool with the shaggy hair and smudged glasses. [Fem!Draco/Harry]
1. Part One: The First Year

**AU. Her father had given her one task for her first year at Hogwarts: befriend the boy who lived. However, that was before Druella Malfoy met the blabbering fool with the shaggy hair and smudged glasses. Now, she set upon herself a new goal: stop the blithering idiot before he doomed her whole school, bringing her and her family down with it. An analysis of the seven years of her follow-through of this task at her time at Hogwarts and beyond.**

**Fem!Draco/Harry**

**Part I: The First Year**

* * *

There were few things Druella Lucia Malfoy hated her parents for in her life: her name, the pressure of perfection, prejudice, and preservation, and her fucking name. That was until her father spoke to her in Flourish and Blotts where they first spotted the famous boy named Harry Potter.

Her father, Lucius Malfoy, ever the pompous and prideful man, sneered at the sight of the legendary boy following the giant-man Gameskeeper. Both were hopelessly confused as the other. The small boy followed and the clueless giant wandered. Druella could barely prevent her eyes from rolling into her eye sockets at the sight. Hopeless fools, the whole lot of them.

Her father tapped her shin with his engraved cane, barring her from walking forward to greet the boy. His disproval which danced on the line of disgust filled his voice, "Druella Lucia, that boy there is Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived. The boy who defeated our Dark Lord on Halloween night when he was only a year-old. The same boy who somehow stopped the Dark Lord's plans in a single night. The same boy that is heralded a hero in the Ministry."

His disdain frightened the eleven-year-old Druella. His angular jaw clenched tighter as he watched the Gameskeeper lead him out of the shop, the boy running behind to match his large strides. He turned to Druella, his gray eyes sharpening as he distastefully sighed.

"Druella, that boy there is an essential part of the Dark Lord's return. He is the key to the revolution, the restoration of our family reputation." He gently caressed his daughter's chin, forcing her own gray eyes to stare into his. His grip was a bit too tight, but it anchored her in reality; it showed her the urgency of his following request. "You must befriend the boy."

She snorted. "That blithering idiot?" Her sneer was too similar to her own father's, its curl of her lips and disgust was indisputably his. "You must be joking."

"Sadly, my dear Druella, I am not."

With a flick of his cloak and the loud taps of his cane hitting the old shop's floorboards, Druella followed her father to the counter to buy her books. Her mind couldn't wrap around the fact that the disgruntled boy with broken glasses and shaggy clothes was the hero that the common Wizarding folk praised and the pureblood elitists cursed. Him, a boy of nothing special? No, she couldn't believe it.

And that was her first mistake.

* * *

As she was sized in Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, she saw the same boy walk into the shop. Politely, he nodded as Madam Malkin asked if he was attending Hogwarts. The boy seemed smaller compared to the mauve-wearing squat with his meek demeanor. This boy with no air of authority or confidence defeated old Voldemort, one of the most powerful wizards of his time? Unbelievable.

Madam Malkin walked him to a raised platform beside her. Of course, Father had planned this. Rolling her eyes, Druella looked forward, ignoring the boy. So what if her Father wanted her to "befriend" him; he was not the kind Druella wanted to be associated with. Her friends needed to be confident, preferably with a spine and without a submissive disposition. This boy was, and probably could never be, that. Still, her father's suffocating grip and eyes watched her in her mind.

Inhaling deeply, Druella tried her best at small talk that an eleven-year-old could possibly do.

"Hullo." Druella turned her head to the boy. Up close, she saw that his dark hair could be a brilliant black had he actually cared for the mess, taking time to comb and condition the monstrosity. He was thin, knobbly so as if he never ate enough which seemed preposterous as surely he was a growing boy and they eat _everything_. His round glasses were held up close with old and fraying pieces of clear paper-like appendages. They were cracked, smudged, and too big and round for his face shape. He was awfully pale, so pale that it probably sent her family flying after their money. However, he had wonderfully bright green eyes. Emerald like Slytherin's seal and her family's crest. At least he was somewhat promising.

She gave a closed-lipped smile, never allowing others to see a real smile. As her mother said, witches could never grace men with their wiles too soon lest they think her of a whore. Still, she felt some discomfort in speaking with him. He looked awfully shy and uncomfortable as her.

"Hogwarts, too?" She continued.

"Yes." said the boy.

"My name is Druella Malfoy, but please refrain from that calling me that. I'd prefer Dru."

"Um, alright then." The boy was even more sheepish as he bowed his head.

"And your name would be...?" Dru irritably asked. Honestly, it seemed like the boy had no manners whatsoever. Where did he come from? Where had he been hiding these past ten years?

"Oh! Harry, Harry Potter."

"Well, it is a pleasure to meet you, Harry." She finally turned to him, watching him slightly shake his head, like he was berating himself for being so stupid. "My father is in the other shop with my mother, searching for an animal companion for me. We will move on from there to the wand shop. Hopefully, I can bully Father into buying me a new broom for Quidditch. Honestly, Quidditch shouldn't be banned from the first years! It would save a lot of time training and-"

Druella could be forward and a fast talker, but she knew when her audience had lost interest or was hopelessly lost in her words. Unsurprisingly, Harry Potter was the second option, his mouthing slightly gapping like a shored fish.

"Sorry, but it seems like you're not following." Dru unabashedly said. Potter flushed red in embarrassment. "Well, what are you not following?"

"Um... what is Quidditch?"

Druella could not believe what he had asked. What is Quidditch? What is Quidditch?!

"What is Quidditch?!" Father would not like the loss of her composure as she yelped at the clueless, blithering idiot. "What do you mean what is Quidditch?! Are you not a wizard-" Oh, _oh!_ So that was where he was during the lost decade-he was living with the Muggles. She saw his flushing beet red face now, refusing to acknowledge her. She sighed, annoyed at his lack of thick skin and her raised voice. "Oh, I seem to see the misunderstanding then, Harry Potter. You were raised in the Muggle world, weren't you?"

He nodded. Druella smiled again, hoping to salvage this meeting so her Father would not disown her.

"That's understandable as Muggles do not know that sport. Quidditch is a popular Wizarding sport, much like Muggle, what do you call it, _rugabee_?"

"Rugby." Harry amended, sheepishly shrugging at her.

Druella nodded. "My apologies, _rug-bee_, but on brooms which is far superior in my opinion. Anyways, it is a sport that Hogwarts participates in, but bars first-years, like us, from participating in which I think is preposterous! Just wait, Harry Potter, when I'm on the field, they will know better."

Harry simply nodded, still confused about what Quidditch was and how "brooms" played a role. Still, he admired the girl's passion. It was something he lacked, her arrogance. However, he wasn't sure if it was quality he aspired for, as he saw much of Dudley in her pale and angular face and demanding voice.

Before the boy could reply, Madam Malkin tapped his shoulder. "That's you done, my dear." Harry stepped off the platform.

"Well, I will see you at Hogwarts, I suppose." Dru miffed, annoyed at how her conversation was cut short. Father would not be pleased.

Harry nodded before leaving the shop to meet the Gameskeeper. The giant had ice cream in hand, smiling cheerily at the small boy. Druella wondered if her Father would bring her a sweet treat like that with a warm smile. She scowled; how silly of her to think that.

* * *

Like Druella had presumed, she didn't meet The Boy Who Lived again until right before the feast.

She was standing with Daphe Greengrass and Pansy Parkison, excitedly chatting about being sorted into Slytherin and the year to come with the "celebrity" in their class.

Pansy snorted, crossing her arms over her chest. "Speak of the legend and he shall appear. He's talking to the Weasels."

Druella turned and observed the shaggy boy chatting with the red-haired, red-faced boy. With his freckles, hand-me-down robes and flushed face, he was definitely a Weasley those blood traitors. When the Weasley boy turned towards her and her friends, he immediately scowled at her. In return, Druella rolled her eyes and looked away. Of course, he was a Weasley. He hated her and her blood before he had even talked to her, let alone confirm who she was. If she was a Malfoy, she was despised and spit upon. She was all too well accustomed to his older sibling's cruel looks when her family walked in Diagon Alley. Why Harry Potter would ever be associated with such rude people is beyond her.

"Excuse me," Druella said. Without a second glance toward's Daphne' surprised face, she walked over to the Harry Potter.

"Hullo, again, Harry Potter. Looks like I presumed rightly." She greeted, smiling at the boy with her closed lips. His new robes helped him look more put together, but his doe-eyed expression said otherwise. Surely his naivety would hurt him-and surely it will help her become his friend.

"Hi, Dru." He sheepishly greeted. The Weasley only glared harder. If he stared at her any harder with that scowl on his face, Dru figured his face would combust. The thought of it made her giggle.

"Penny for thought on which house you'll join?" She politely asked. Truly, she wanted to know which House believed they would be blessed with this so-called hero. Surely he would think of himself as such.

"Um, not sure, to be honest..." Of course, a vague statement.

"Well, surely Slytherin would enjoy having The Boy Who Lived add to the esteem collection of powerful and successful witches and wizards who bear the serpent crest." Dru crooned, happy to boast about her family's Hogwarts House.

Apparently, that only angered the Weasel's temper. "Like Harry would wanna join the house filled with dark wizards and murderers!" He spat at her venomously. Dru was not troubled by his comment, used to the misconstrued image of her house. Still, she narrowed her eyes at the red-faced freckled boy.

"Well, that is up for Potter to decide then isn't it Weasley?" She turned back to Harry to see him narrow his eyes at her hostility towards the boy. What, she was only defending her house and reputation? Sighing, she locked her hands behind her back, slowly backing away from the unlikely duo. "See you at the Feast, Potter. Weasley."

She ignored the defamatory comments the Weasel boy was all too happy to share with Harry. She had thick skin; she was a Malfoy, and that was something everyone wanted to be.

* * *

Druella watched Harry Potter receive a large and warm welcome as he sat at the Gryffindor table. Ronald, the Weasley boy from earlier, and his twins cheered the loudest. He was all the happy to give the Slytherin table a smug look before excitedly turning his head to brag to Potter about how amazing and stupendous and bloody brilliant Gryffindor was compared to the puny houses, especially the rotted serpents. Well, that is what Dru assumed he was doing. Potter was smiling to everyone, a look of appeasement and relief fell upon his face as he began chatting with the fellow first-year boys. A bushy-haired girl was also speaking to him, raving about something. Probably the history of the castle, Dru presumed based upon her overhearing the girl earlier gushing about _Hogwarts: A History_ in the Hogwarts Express.

It only infuriated Dru more as she couldn't understand why Potter would want to be in a house filled with arrogant, blithering idiots with no common sense of decency or intelligence. They were all stupid wizards and witches that thought with their fists and wands first rather than offer any sense of reason to a presented situation as her Father claimed. And she believed him whole-heartedly as she thought back to Weasley's hostility towards her. She hadn't even said a word to him before he chose to hate her. Of course, their family's rivalry goes back to the forbidden engagement and marriage of her mother's great uncle's daughter, Cedrella Black, with the Muggle-enthusiast Septimus Weasley; also the fact that the Weasley's were blood traitors, the whole Muggle-loving lot. Yes, family business was tricky after all, even with the matters of reputation and prestige.

What infuriated, even more, was the lack of decorum and appeasement from her fellow first-years, especially from the likes of Crabbe and Goyle. She could not believe Father encourage to pick one of those two boys to be a likely spouse. At least Mother had the decency to suggest Theodore Nott, a more pleasing candidate.

The first-years boys, barely seeing Potter speak with the Weasley boy, decided that harassment and aloofness were the better manners of convincing The Boy Who Lived to join their house. Honestly, she believed she would be surrounded by idiots had it not been for Daphne and Blaise, probably the only sensible people in her house, and Pansy when the mood strikes her. It was as if the others didn't understand the importance of a favored individual, beloved by the common public, would join their house. Blithering idiots the lot of them!

"If you keep scowling like that those wrinkles will never go away. And on such a pretty face, love!" Daphne teased her as she spread jam on a warm biscuit. "Surely you'd never find a suitable husband then!"

"And then you'll be forced in the woes and loneliness of spinsterhood!" Pansy added, cackling as she stuffed a pastry into her mouth.

Dru only smiled at them before digging into her soup. "Then I suppose I'd drag you two with me."

"Well, only if you could afford my dowry." Daphne moved her foot as Dru tried to kick under the table. "Sadly, I think I'm a bit out of your price range love."

"Who cares about all that stuff?!" Theo sneered. "Surely we need to focus on the House Cup."

"We have time for that, Theo. We'll win again, that's for sure. Especially with Professor Snape cracking down on Gryffindors the past few years." Blaise paused slightly as he lowered his voice. "At least that's what I've heard."

Dru rolled her eyes at the boy's theatrics. She said, "Well, I'll be focusing on practicing for the Quidditch tryouts next year. Wait until I get out on that field, and that will surely show Gryffindor who's champ."

"That is if you can stay on the broom for that long!"

"Get off it, Pansy!" Dru snapped. "I'm good and it's a loss that first-years can't play. Honestly, our house would surely win if only they let us play."

"Or let you play." Daphne surmised as she delicately bit into her biscuit.

"Precisely!"

The rest of the feast was spent jeering on who would win the Quidditch cup with the current line up. Dru never once looked back at the Gryffindor table. If Potter wanted to be with those buffoons, fine. She'd show him how stupid his mistake was to consider being one of those haughty imbeciles.

* * *

Classes began and Druella couldn't be happier with how well she was doing. Most of the material she had already learned from her Mother's hired private lessons from a governess. She was particularly excelling in Potions, no thanks to the biased teachings of Professor Snape. She didn't mind the leniency he gave to her and fellow Slytherins. He was the only one to show any favor at all. The other professors were quick to berate her in other classes, especially in her Transfiguration classes with Professor McGonagall. The old hag didn't appreciate her forwardness and jokes in class. Her friends did though, and that's all that matters.

Unsurprisingly, Slytherin was already ahead in the House Cup. She was all the more happy to boast about that to Mother in her letters back home, along with her excellent academic report in the first few weeks of the classes. Already, Mother had sent Dru a beautiful quill set to congratulate her on her marvelous start at Hogwarts.

Druella was most excited for the first class of flying lessons with Madam Hooch later this afternoon. She couldn't wait to show her skills to her friends and those Gryffindorks out on the Pitch. She wasn't the least bit nervous; she was born to play Quidditch.

She carried this confidence as she walked onto the Pitch with Daphne and Pansy, Blaise and the other Slytherin boys just behind her. It was hard to keep her excitement from bubbling over. Mother's words rang into her head: composure best suits the lady with class and prestige. Daphne nudged her when a giggle escaped from her. Dru looked to see her friend rolling her eyes at Dru's obvious glee.

She stood beside her in a line as Madam Hooch waited for the Gryffindors to show up on the Pitch. Dru snickered to herself; of course, they would be late, those idiots. Running onto the Pitch, Dru saw Potter and his sidekicks, Weasley and Granger, panting as they stood with their housemates in an unorganized line.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" Madam Hooch barked at them, specifically glaring her yellow hawk eyes at the Gryffindors. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

Dru stood beside her broom, displeased with how old it looked and its odd-angle twigs. She would have to speak with Father and see if she could convince him to finance new brooms for the school's use. Of course to help out the school, not to improve their image at all.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom and say, 'Up!'" Madam Hooch instructed as she walked down the middle of the lines.

"Up!" She confidently shouted. Instantly, her broom jumped into her hand. Looking around, she saw that only a few were in her housemates' hands. Even Potter, who she assumed had never even seen a broomstick like this, had his in his right hand. He seemed shocked but excited. Some, like Neville Longbottom's, hadn't moved at all.

Walking down the aisle again, she instructed the class how to correctly mount the broom without sliding down the stick of it, and how to grip it. Easily, Dru accomplished these tasks with nods of approval from Madam Hooch. She flourished under her praise, laughing to herself as she saw Weasley glare at her when he struggled to mount it.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, _hard_!" ordered Madam Hooch. Her short, spikey hard blew slightly in her face from the breeze. Still, she was intimidating as ever. "Keep your brooms steady rise a few feet and then come straight back down by leaning forwards slightly. On my whistle - three - two-"

She never finished her countdown as Longbottom prematurely kicked off the ground too hard. She yelled for him to come back, but he was like a cork out of a wine bottle, shooting up high into the air. Dru presumed he was about twelve, now twenty feet high. The blithering idiot! She could see the panic on his face. He gasped, and suddenly was slipping off the broom and- WHAM!- a nasty crack followed the sound as Neville Longbottom met the ground, face down, in a heap of limbs. His broomstick never returned back to the ground, instead, it began lazily gliding over to the Forbidden Forest not too far from the Pitch.

Madam Hooch ran over to the boy, her face as white as his when she muttered, "Broken wrist. Come on, boy- it's all right, up you get!"

Turning to the class who had wide eyes and opened mouths, she stared coolly at them all. Even Druella felt chills down her spine as she ordered, "None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch'. Come on, dear." Slowly, she and Longbottom hobbled off with her arm wrapped around him.

Druella looked back to the ground where Longbottom took off for his unexpected and disastrous flight. She saw something shine in the grass- his remembrall. She remembered him receiving this gift during lunch at the Great Hall earlier that day. Quickly, she snatched it off the ground, inspecting its quality. Slowly, it turned red.

"Hey!" She turned to see Hermione Granger furiously stomping up to her, flinging her hand out. "That does not belong to you! Give it back so we can give it back to Neville!"

Annoyed at her rude assumption she was stealing it and at her bratty attitude, Druella defensively stepped back, gripping the prized toy tighter.

"Sorry, Granger. But I don't take orders from the likes of you." She sneered. The Slytherin boys and Pansy snickered at her retort. She heard one of the boys, most likely Crabbe or Goyle, snicker to themselves 'Nice, calling her a mudblood!' But she hadn't, Dru thought. She was referring to her haughtiness and arrogance; of course, they would make it more vulgar than it was.

"Shove off, Malfoy," Harry growled at her, stepping in front of Granger. Dru was surprised. She had never seen him other than a state of vagueness and neutrality. Maybe he did have balls after all. Time to test this theory.

"Hmm, let's see if you can actually catch me first." She smirked as she easily mounted the broom, expertly rising a few feet in the air. She held back an annoyed look as she saw him easily follow her up into the air. She assumed it was his first time riding a broomstick, and she would use that to her advantage. "Oh, oh, oh! Impressive Potter, but I can feel it loosen in my grasp." Throwing with all her might, she sent the toy away from the Pitch, towards the castle. "Seemed it slipped. Oops!"

But Potter didn't hear her retort as he already zoomed in the air after Longbottom's toy. Eyes widen in shock, she watched him fly faster and faster. Slowly falling towards the ground, she could feel her fury build into the pits of her stomach as he dodged all the protruding obstacles in his way. She was down-right growling as he soon came back, remembrall in his right hand.

All the Gryffindors cheered as he landed on the ground. Frustrated at his beginner's luck, she huffed and walked away, not even afraid of Madam Hooch's wrath as she broke her one rule. She couldn't believe her eyes. How could he, a boy who has lived among Muggles and never even laid eyes on a broomstick, let alone ride one, beat her? How could a shaggy, naive, and sheepish boy with no real confidence, beat her at her own game? Who was this boy?

She ignored Daphne and Pansy's gossip later on in the common room before supper. She read a book, boiling in her own annoyance until she heard Daphne's trilling voice.

"Apparently, Professor McGonagall wasn't even going to punish him for riding the broomstick. In fact, I've heard she told Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor's Quidditch captain, to let him on the team as a seeker! He'll be the youngest House player in a century!"

"SHE DID WHAT?!"

* * *

Druella was still fuming about how awful today had turned out to be. While she was spared from punishment thanks to her housemates vouching for her, she was still infuriated that Harry Potter was to be Gryffindor's newest seeker. Apparently, Headmaster Dumbledore ben the rules, claiming that the first years were not to own broomsticks, therefore, they are allowed to participate in the Quidditch matches. While she was delighted to hear she, too, could play by that rule, the Slytherin captain, Marcus Flint, refused to let her, a first-year _girl_ to play when they had Terence Higgs, the current seeker for their team. She was beyond appalled at his blatant sexism that barred her from joining the team.

It made her despise Harry Potter all the more. Of course, the wonder boy could do whatever he wanted. He was beloved by all students and Professor's, excluding Professor Snape. He was The _Boy_ Who Lived, therefore, Dumbledore's favorite. She worked for her grades, practiced her skills, and worked to become the young witch she was today. Yes, Father helped here and there with the right push, but her passion drove her all the way to the top. Then, here comes this boy with no training and no background, easily knocking her off the top. She was furious.

She glared at him throughout dinner, ignoring Daphne and Pansy's worried looks. She didn't care that she lost her composure and was being petty. She had every bloody right to be angry.

"Glaring daggers into him won't magically fix the situation, Dru." Daphne gently said, squeezing her hand. "It's best to move on and focus on other things."

"Why would I do that when there are blatant favoritism and sexism factors working against me, Daphne!" Druella hissed back, stabbing her salad with her fork.

"If only you could give him the punishment he deserves." snickered Pansy as she demolished her steak.

Druella stopped stabbing her food, thoughtfully chewing on Pansy hidden suggestion.

"Pansy, you're brilliant!"

"I'm what now?" She muffled through her steak.

Druella smirked as she formulated a perfect plan in her mind. "I will only get justice if I serve it myself. Thanks, love. Just follow my lead after dinner. I think a little congratulations are in order for Potter."

Watching the Weasley twins leave Potter and company, she elbowed Daphne and Pansy to follow her lead as she began to approach Potter at his table.

Slamming her hand down beside him, Druella smiled down at him. "I'll admit where I see a fair competitor, Potter. Nice job catching the little toy. Impressive, really."

"What do you want, snake?!" Weasley hissed, ironically, at the smirking girl. She shrugged.

"Only to say congratulations to Potter for being the youngest in over a century to join a Hogwarts Quidditch team." Dru reveled in their shocked faces. "Yes, the word does get around fast here, ya know?"

"Scram, Malfoy, before I'll hex you." Weasley threatened again. Granger glared at her while Harry narrowed his eyes.

"Like to see you try that with that hand-me-down wand, Weasel," Pansy said with her Cheshire grin. Daphne only inspected her nails, bored with all the chit chat.

"Ya know, Dru," Harry said, staring her down. "You're awfully brave with your housemates around."

Perfect, he took the bait. "Please, I could mop you up with that shaggy hair and smudged glasses any time, Potter." She stood up straight, resting her hand on her hip as she returned his stare. "Up for a little duel, Potter? The trophy room at midnight, or are you scared that Professor McGonagall can't save you?"

"He'll be there, Malfoy!" Ron quickly bluffed, cutting off Potter before he could answer. "You're gonna regret messing with us."

"Surely, Weasley." She miffed. Turning away, she walked towards the exist before calling out one last thing as she loved having the last word. "I would make sure to clean up those glasses, Potter. Wanna have a fair chance and all. It would awfully unfair of me to fight a blind, hopeless first-year after all."

She walked out of the Hall, her friends in tow before Potter could reply. When they were immediately out of earshot, Daphne glared at Dru.

"You'll get all of us expelled, ya know, and your daddy wouldn't be able to bail us out!"

Druella nodded. "I know Daphne. That's why we're not going tonight."

"What do you mean?! You're not chicken are you, _Druella_?" Pansy loved her name more then she did.

"No, Pansy. But, as our duty of good Hogwarts students, we should let the faculty know of any students breaking school rules, right? Like, say, leaving the common room past curfew?" Druella was practically singing as her plan was coming into fruition.

Daphne nudged her as she laughed at the implication. Pansy, bless her heart, realized a few moments later with her own giggle.

"Sneaky as a serpent, Dru. I love it!"

Dru smirked as they saw Filch walking down the hall towards them. She bouncing on her toes as she told him of rumors she'd heard of a magical duel between students that was going to happen tonight at midnight near the Trophy Room. Potter will surely get the punishment that he deserves after his little stunt today. Druella couldn't be any prouder of her plan. She felt light as a feather as she fell asleep that night, excited to hear of the news that wonder boy was caught sneaking out. Her dreams were peaceful that night.

* * *

Come the next morning though, Dru quickly realized at breakfast that Harry, Weasley, Granger, and Longbottom weren't caught at all. They had somehow escaped Filch's detection. She felt her anger grow at that useless man couldn't even catch first-years. Honestly!

She watched as Harry received a package that morning-a new broomstick! And not any old broomstick, but a Nimbus Two Thousand! She couldn't believe her eyes as a rule after the rule was bent for the blithering idiot. He was nothing compared to her. What did he have that she didn't? She couldn't handle it anymore.

She saw Professor Flitwick down the aisle. A sensible professor, surely he would see the favoritism at work here!

"Professor Flitwick!" Druella called, standing from her seat to come to stand by him and Potter. "Isn't it against the rules for a first-year to own a broom?" She almost reveled in Potter's face as he frowned at the reminder. "Wouldn't it be fair to all first-year students that Potter returns the broom? I mean, all students must follow school policy; no one should be above it."

Sighing Professor Flitwick said, "Yes, Miss Malfoy. While that is most certainly true, Mr. Potter is in a unique circumstance where, according to Headmaster Dumbledore, he is allowed to own a broomstick." Druella tried to argue, but Professor Flitwick was quick to intercede. "That is all, Miss Malfoy. I would suggest returning to your breakfast with your housemates. Thank-you."

Embarrassed at the rejection and infuriated by her luck, she huffed and walked back to her table, head held high. According to Mother, never let others know when they have won, composure and class is of the essence.

For the rest of the day, Druella pondered how Potter kept getting away with all of these things. She concluded that it's because of his fame. With his fame, comes the power to live above the others, outside the rules of society set out upon them. That must be why Father wanted her to become friends with him so much. He held so much more power and influence than the blithering idiot was even aware of. Imagine if she were to be friends with him, and made suggestions of things for him to do or think about... So much would be able to get done. She wouldn't have this glass ceiling imposing in on her anymore. She wouldn't feel as suffocated.

Her realization made her grow in envy, however. Envy of the boy with supposedly everything. Envy of the boy where life obviously came easily to him. Envy of the boy that everyone instantly likes and cheers for. Envy of all the things he gets to be, of all of his freedom and power.

It was then, as Druella sat in the common room, writing an essay, that she decided she hated Harry Potter. No, she could never be friends with his sort. No, she would have to disappoint Father on that part...

But, what Father doesn't know won't hurt him.

* * *

Without her realizing, two months had passed at her time at Hogwarts, and her jealousy of Harry Potter only grew.

He was an average student, that much was clear to Druella. Without Granger's help and the cooing of professors, he would surely be an _acceptable_ and _poor_ student at best. That infuriated her more as she rarely received praise from her _outstanding_ marks. She was an intelligent and talented witch, whereas he was average at best, with the affinity for Quidditch.

This translated into the first game of the season in November. After the horrendous troll incident during Halloween, all eyes were focused on the first match of the season: Gryffindor versus Slytherin. All eyes were on Harry Potter. Everyone was whispering if he was as good as the Weasley twins boasted. Druella only rolled her eyes at that. Surely, he was just a boy with barely any training. He couldn't be that good, right?

She bit her own words when he coughed up the snitch, waving it in the air as the announcer continuously cheered that Gryffindor beat Slytherin. She was furious at his luck. When will it end? When will he finally realize that he wasn't that special as everyone told him he was?

* * *

Soon came December, and along with it, the excitement for the holidays. Druella couldn't say she was particularly cheerful for holiday break. Malfoy Manor would host its annual Winter ball with other members of the Twenty-Eight families, but she planned on staying at Hogwarts that year in hopes to avoid it. Surely her father would boast of her grades and success at Hogwarts, but he would be furious to know she wasn't chummy with The Boy Who Lived as she may have suggested in one of her earlier letters.

Sadly, her father refused.

This irked her more as she left her Potions class with Professor Snape and her housemates. Her foul mood only grew at the sight of Potter, Weasley, and Granger speaking with Hagrid, the Gameskeeper. She never really did like him, frightened by his unkempt clothes, scraggly beard, booming voice, and giant height. He could easily squash or clobber her with any of his pets, and that made her antsy around him.

"Here, let me help you with that Hagrid," Weasley said, motioning towards the gigantic Christmas tree he was towing.

"Of course he would be all over the Gameskeeper position. It would practically be step up from where he spends his time." Druella drawled to her friends as they walked, loud enough for the boy to hear and grow red in the face.

"Why don't you say that to my face you vile, little snake!" He roared, lunging at her.

"Mr. Weasley, I would suggest that you apologize to Miss Malfoy at once for that foul tongue and implicated threat." Professor Snape said with his usual monotone drawl. He glared at the Gryffindor trio. "Five points from Gryffindor for fighting."

He remained impervious to Weasley and Potter's furious faces as he strolled away. Druella couldn't help but feel smug at her small victory. At least Professor Snape wasn't lost in the charm of The Boy Who Lived. That was one of the only good things going for in her rivalry.

She waved goodbye to their furious faces as she laughed with Pansy at their luck. Of course, Daphne remained indifferent, but Druella saw the small smile on her face. Yes, today had been a foul day, but seeing Potter realize he was not above anyone made her feet feel a little lighter. Perhaps she could soldier through another couple more months of his insufferable attitude and luck; maybe the holidays were a time for cheer and joy after all.

* * *

Potter changed after she had returned from Holiday. He and his two goons seemed awfully preoccupied with something in their hushed tones and lowered heads during meals. It seemed even more peculiar with their sudden preference of staying in the library for hours on end. Yes, something smelt stinky with those three, and Druella wanted to know what it was.

One afternoon in January, Druella and Pansy were walking from the library after working on Professor Snape's assignment when they saw Neville walking a little farther ahead of them.

"Pansy, mind if we made a quick stop so I could ask Neville some questions?" Druella asked. She knew Neville had been speaking to the trio of troublemakers and wanted to know if he had any whiff of their doings. Surely, he would know something.

"Not a problem, Dru." Pansy grinned, a hop in her step as she walked with her.

"Hullo, Longbottom!" Druella pleasantly called. The fidgety boy flinched as he slowly turned around to face Druella, or, more specifically, Pansy and her Cheshire grin. "Where are you heading now?"

"Um, uh, um..." Longbottom's face froze.

Pansy had no patience. "Well, come on and spit it out already!"

"The loo!" He squeaked, clutching his books tighter to his chest.

Dru only smiled. "Could I ask you a few things first though before you run off?"

Neville slowly shook his head. "Malfoy, I really got to go-"

"Well, bloody hold it, you wanker!" Pansy sneer, pulling out her wand.

"Pansy!" Dru said. "Put that away. I just want a chat with him, not for him to pee through his trousers." She turned back to him, seeing his pale face and the sweat dripping down his brow. She saw him move his feet back.

Suddenly, he moved his feet, pushing himself away from the two Slytherins.

"I don't think so, Longbottom!" Pansy sneered. "_Locomotor Mortis!_"

Longbottom's legs seized up from underneath him, locking stick-straight in place. He yelped in surprise and pain. He fearfully looked at Druella as she languidly strolled up to the boy. She was annoyed at Pansy's aggressive tactics, thinking of them lacking decorum and dignity, but she needed to know just what Potter was planning. She had to, or else he would get away with it like last time.

"Sorry about that, Longbottom, but a girl has to do what a girl has to do in order to make way around here." Dru shrugged, finally stopping in front of the Gryffindor boy. He was shaking terribly. Dru would've felt sorry for him, but she knew that weak people like him would never get anywhere in life without a hard shove in the right direction. In the end, Dru believed she was doing him a favor by being a little harsh with him. It was for his own good. "So, tell me what Potter, the Weasel, and Granger are planning? Why are they spending so much time in the Library, hmm?"

"I-I-I don't know, Malfoy." His voice raised an octave higher.

"Come now, Longbottom. I don't like liars," She pointed her finger towards Pansy who had an annoyed look on her face as she leaned against the corridor wall. "and I know she just despises them. So, would you please tell us? I'm not one for asking twice..."

His mouth clamped shut as he shook his head. Wow, maybe he did have some balls after all.

Dru sighed. "Bollocks. Well, I guess we'll be on our way then. Have a good day, Longbottom."

She ignored his shouts of protest to remove the curse as she briskly walked back towards her common room, Pansy quickly following behind.

"What was that all for, Dru?" she asked her. "What was with all the questions? Interested in Potter, oh, I see. He's taken quite a bit of space up in that little head of yours."

Dru ignored Pansy's waggling eyebrows. "No," she huffed, "I'm more interested in what he thinks he can get away with. It's not fair that all of these rules are being bent for him, Pans. I'm not letting any more bend just for boy wonder's sake."

With that, she spoke the password for the dormitory, without saying another word towards Pansy. She needed to perform some research and draw up some ideas on just what Potter could be planning. Surely, he was up to no good, and she was the only one who could stop him. Yes, it was a necessity. Besides, she thought to herself, that blithering idiot offers nothing to her that can be considered charming or attractive. He's just a pompous boy who thinks that he deserves everything. Oh, how Dru loved to set that straight!

* * *

The day of the first Quidditch match in January left a spark of anxiousness and excitement in the air. Druella and her friends anticipated the heated match between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor. If Hufflepuff wins, then Slytherin will surely win the Quidditch Cup! However, if Gryffindor wins... No, that couldn't bloody happen. Potter's luck surely had run out by now with his "impressive" plays as the newest seeker. No, Hufflepuff will win, and then her house would decimate them in the final match.

She carried this confidence as she sat with Pansy and Blaise in the stands, Tracey Davis and Millicent Bulstrode sat a few seats to their left with Crabbe, Goyle, and Nott above them. Weasley, Granger, and Longbottom without Gryffindorks sat below them, excitedly chatting about how they would easily win this match if Potter spotted the Snitch quick enough. Druella snorted at their lunacy; obviously, Terrence Higgs, the more experienced and confident player, would detect it before Potter.

"Yeah, then we can shove that Snitch up Malfoy's ass-" Weasley snickered, before Granger cuffed him in the head, shrilling at his indecency and rudeness. Druella wasn't bothered by the comment, having heard worse from Father's adversaries in the Ministry that would speak of him behind his back. However, she was annoyed at his audacity to see it so blatantly, especially since she was sitting only a few rows behind him.

"Sod off, Weasel," Blaise growled.

Weasley turned his head, glaring. "Well, I would like to see you try with those dainty hands. Come off it now, Malfoy, your high horse. Wouldn't want your knickers in a twist."

Druella seethed at that audacity of this boy. "Well, it seems to me with those hand-me-down robes twisted their way up your arse instead, Weasel."

Weasley grew redder in the face as he stood up. "Better a weasel than a slimy, lying snake like you."

"Please, Weasley. I don't know whether to laugh at you or pity you and your poor family."

"M-Malfoy knock it off!" Neville said, stammering. "He's worth twelve of you at least!"

"And the idiot speaks. Honestly, Longbottom, if brains were gold, you'd be poorer than Weasley, and that's saying something!"

"That's it!" Weasley fumed, lunging forward at the girl. However, he tripped over the wooden benches, slamming his face on it. Dru was mortified by the blood dribbling down his nose. This bloody wanker really tried to attack her?

"Serves you right, blood traitor!" Pansy hissed venomously as she grabbed Dru's arm. Dru, still in shock by his actions, mindlessly followed as they moved to different seats, higher up in the stands. The blonde felt horrible for what had happened, but she couldn't forgive Weasely for all the vile things he said and how easily he choose violence over continual verbal discourse. Honestly, what was wrong with that imbecile? "Can't believe that vile vermin tried to attack you, Dru! Honestly, the nerve on that Weasel astounds me. You alright, love?"

"Yea," Dru nodded. "Just peachy."

"Well, we can watch the match from hearing. Surely with Weasley's turn of events, his awful luck will follow in Gryffindor's plays."

It didn't. Shortly after Weasley moved to strike her, Potter caught the Snitch in one of the fastest times in Hogwarts history. Blood perfect irony if you'd ask Dru, but she was too busy cursing that foul little oaf's name and his luck. When will it finally run out? When will she find hers again?

* * *

Soon, the cold months of winter melded into the warmer and more pleasant months of spring. After the altercation at the Pitch stands, Dru found herself hating Potter and his goons even more. Whenever the chance was possible, Dru found herself handing out sarcastic remarks and snappy one-liners towards them. During class, walking by them in the hall, or passing them on their way to meals, a cruel smile always followed her words as she cheerily carried on her day. It made her feel immensely satisfied that she was able to bring down those "perfect" students down a few pegs, especially Potter. Yes, she was especially vicious with him.

She didn't see it as harassing, however. No, it was cosmic justice in her eyes. No one else would dare to criticize Potter and his friends, so she was more than willing to fill in that part. So what if she would doc Slytherin a few points here and there? With Snape so vicious in his point-deducting during his class slots, Slytherin was too far in the lead at this point of the year for any of the houses to catch up, especially Gryffindor. She was doing her house and school service with her taunting. Yes, she was only looking at the big picture. When the time came, everyone would realize what a pathetic, meek, and stupid oaf he was. He didn't deserve the fame and favor the title of The Boy Who Lived came with. No, he was an imbecile, a blithering idiot without an inch of earnestly in his body.

Yes, Druella Malfoy truly hated Harry Potter, and she was earnest in her quest to ruin his name, whatever the cost.

And that opportunity came when she, Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy were walking the grounds on an evening walk. End-of-the-year exams were looming over their heads, and Pansy suggested that they ditch the studying and actually lived like humans for a change. Crabbe and Goyle-honestly, what use are they for- suggested they ransack the kitchens, but Malfoy needed a breath of fresh air. A girl could only handle the mustiness of the castle before she had the never-ending urge to sneeze embedded into her soul.

As they walked in the crisp and cool evening, Crabbe and Goyle drawled that they wanted to go back inside and check the kitchens for leftovers of supper-"Malfoy, if we haven't a destination in mind, then we ought to make our way back to the kitchens. It's too bloody boring out here!"

"Well, then you and fill your faces then. Pansy and I will _actually_ enjoy the fresh air."

Pansy grimaced. "Actually, love, I was thinking about heading back to the common room. I need to socialize and Nott will be there and-"

"Save it, Pans." Dru huffed. "Go see your boy chum."

Pansy nudged her side playfully before quickly jogging off towards the Castle, leaving her all alone. That was fine by Dru, of course. In fact, it was her plan all along, to bore the three so she could finally get some peace and quiet. Honestly, they were such a ruckus. Yes, Dru most definitely had planned it all out.

She pulled her thick, wool cloak closer to her as she walked down the path by the giant's hut. She was heading towards the Forbidden Forest, wanting to see if it was actually as scary as everyone made it out to be. It was just a forest. Hogwarts had cast barrier enchantments over the whole premise of the castle and its adjacent land, including the Forbidden Forest as Father told her. She was perfectly safe, save from the few magical creatures permitted to live there by the Headmaster. Surely he wouldn't allow any dangerous creatures there, right?

As she walked by the hut, she heard a loud howl sound erupt from the forest, sending chills down her spine.

Immediately, she turned around to head back up the hill. Maybe she would explore the forest another night, preferably with many, many friends beside her. And professors. And Aurors. And Father.

She walked closer to the hut, drawn in by the warmth of its lights and fire inside and the piqued curiosity of what she would see. She would never admit it, but she was always too curious-nosy and pushy according to Daphne-for her own good.

She peered into the window and saw the Gameskeeper speaking to three small individuals. One had frizzy curls, one with red hair and an equally red face, and the third had raven hair with round glasses. She blinked again and realized that it was Potter, Granger, and Weasley. She rolled her eyes. Of course, they were chummy with the unkempt and sloppy Gameskeeper. She snickered to herself as she thought of how Weasley probably right at home in the slob's den, maybe an upgrade from his family's shoe house.

The comment came naturally now. Before his relentless name-calling, slurs, and threat of a physical altercation, Dru didn't like giving in to the harassing that the purebloods loved to do whenever the redheaded family was around. However, she felt no guilt. He had called her worst, saw her as worst before he had even spoken to her. He assumed that she was like her family members before her; he didn't even give her a chance, so why should she now? No, he deserved far worse. Then again, what's a little name-calling going to do? The Weasleys were known for their thick skin and thick skulls.

As Dru peered closer, she saw the trio gathered around Hagrid the Gameskeeper. Huddled in a crouching position, they stared at the thing on a small table that was smoking. It was an orb-shaped item, which made her think of ironsmiths. However, the orb was ... _moving_.

Her grey eyes widen in realization as she the orb began to _crack_. No, it wasn't an orb; it was an egg! Dru gasped in shock as she saw a sudden breakage of the egg, a slimy, bony, and scaly _wing_ breaking through. What was that creature? Horns later followed, and soon the baby creature was hatched.

A dragon, she realized. A _bloody dragon_ hatched in the giant's hut! Wait until her father and Professor Snape hear about this!

Too consumed in her thoughts, she was frightened by the sudden shout. She blinked and realized that the trio, the giant, and the baby dragon had seen her. Immediately, Dru ran towards the castle. Her legs pumping, she smiled in glee as she realized that finally, _finall__y, _Potter is going to get what's coming to him. After all of these months of being pampered and groomed because of his public status, he was going to be punished for all the rule-bending. Surely his ego will be knocked down a peg or two, and Dru couldn't wait to see his face when the Headmaster berates him, preferably in front of all of Hogwarts! Would he ban from the Quidditch team because of his illegal harboring of the dragon? Dru hoped, praying to any god or deity listening, that it would happen. She couldn't wait to finally show everyone that The Boy Who Lived wasn't as heroic or chivalrous as made out to be.

Dru suddenly slowed to a walk in one of the darkened corridors in realization, however. Stopping, she realized something.

She had no _proof_.

No proof of the dragon, no proof that Potter and his goons knew about it. No proof that Hagrid was harboring it in his hut. She had nothing. No grounds. Not a single piece of evidence besides her testimony.

She could go straight to Professor Snape and tell him what she saw, but not even he, with all of his own, despise for Potter, would believe her. No professor would, not even her own friends and housemates. No, no one would believe her.

She let out a small scream of frustration, rubbing her hands over her eyes. She was _so_ close. So, so, so close to revealing to the Wizarding world what a fraud Potter was-what a weak, spineless, pathetic oof he was.

She breathed in deeply before resuming her walk to the Slytherin common room. She would not give up, she decided. No, she wouldn't let this stop her. Everyone needed to know. She needed to prove that no one should place their faith in this helpless boy, or else they would all be doomed. No, she needed this to work. And the only way for this to work is for her to find proof.

Yes, she nodded resolutely to herself. She would find her proof. And then everything will be better.

It had to be.

* * *

As the week progressed, she was never able to find evidence of the trio knowing of the dragon being kept at the giant's hut. Not a single rumor mill to divulge upon. Not a single piece of suspicious activity for her to follow. She was coming up empty, and it was entirely frustrating.

That was until she heard Weasley had been sent to the hospital wing because his hand grew two sizes too big like a balloon. She found this particularly interesting, as none of their herbology sections noted of any plants that would induce these symptoms according to their professor.

She assumed that it must have been from the hatchling's bite. Curious, she chooses to spend her lunch meal in the library, researching the effects of dragon scratches, bites, bodily fluids, diseases or any other form of a biological connection between dragons and wizard bodily harm. She deduced that the dragon had bitten Weasley, and he not completely clear the site with a dragonsbane potion to counteract the diseases and magical impurities found in dragon's saliva.

She decided that during her afternoon class break, she would go up to the hospital wing and interrogate Weasely under the guise of borrowing a book.

She calmly strutted into the wing, immediately telling Madam Promfrey that she needed to speak with Weasley about a Potions assignment, and needed to borrow a book from him. She allowed her to visit. She smirked at Weasley's obvious hostility as he greeted her.

"What do you want, Malfoy."

"Oh, just to borrow a book. Nothing too much, Weasley." She gave him a sugary-sweet smile as she waved Madam Promfrey goodbye. When she was out of view, she immediately turned to him, her face blank and bored.

"That's quite a nasty injury there." She reveled as his eyes widened a bit in concern. He brought his hand closer to his chest. She continued, "It's quite a mystery of how you got the swelling and infection according to Madam Pomfrey. She saw several puncture holes though, in a rough semi-circle pattern. The curvature of holes highly implicates a tearing motion, almost as if as something _bit_ you." She actually grinned when his face flushed in anger as he began to realize that she might know. "And, from my research and previous _observations_, I have come to conclude that, in fact, a hatchling dragon has bitten your hand. However, due to the fact that Hogwarts forbids dragons to be on Hogwarts grounds without prior approval from the Headmaster and countless other regulations declared by the Ministry, that _surely_ could not be the case. Isn't that correct, Weasley, unless, however, you have the knowledge, and have even come into contact with, said illegal dragon."

"What do you want, Malfoy?!" He hissed, his fist and jaw clenching in anger.

"Oh, I'm just offering my speculations, Weasley. I would need proof, wouldn't I, to present this case to the Headmaster." She smugly said. She languidly picked up the first book he had stacked on his bedside table in order to confirm the guise she had come into his bed under. "But, from my research and observations, I make a pretty well case if I do say so myself. In fact, I could go to the Headmaster right now and tell him of my findings..."

"Like anyone would believe a ridiculous story like that." He muttered.

She suddenly turned to him. "So you admit, then, Weasley, that this scenario is true?"

He huffed. "I'm not saying another word, you snake. Leave, before I tell Madam Pomfrey that ya harassing me."

"As you wish, Weasel." She shrugged, snatching the book close to her chest and smugly leaving the bed.

That felt too good, she chirped to herself, leaving the wing with a skip in her step. She looked at the book that she had taken; it was the positions book, after all, worn down and stained in all of the unappealing glory. It fell from her hands suddenly, landing with the book open.

There was a piece of paper in the book.

Curiously, she read the paper. Her eyes lit up in excitement as she realized what she finally had in her hands.

Proof.

Oh, wait until Professor McGonagall hears about this!

* * *

"But, Professor!" Dru pleaded, standing in front of Professor McGonagall in the corridor leading to the Astronomy Tower, her grey eyes widening. "The letter said that he was coming to the highest tower, which is the Astronomy Tower! Please, Professor, maybe they saw us and went to another tower, they could still be here-"

"That is quite enough Miss Malfoy!" Professor McGonagall barked. "Now, I have listened to your case and given you the time of night, but there had been no entrances into Hogwarts grounds from what I have been reported. There are no signs of Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, or Mr. Weasley with a dragon in their possession. And Mr. Rubeus Hagrid was also found with no evidence of having a hatchling. I have had quite enough of this, Miss Malfoy! Now, as to your situation, twenty points from Slytherin will be deducted, and detention will be given for your late-night escapades. Now, please return to your dormitory before I lose my patience and sanity."

"Professor-" Professor McGonagall's cloak sharply billowed as she turned back to glare at the Slytherin. Dru swore she heard faint giggles behind her, but when she turned around, no one was there. Facing the Professor, Dru admitted defeat. "Yes, Professor."

Never before had Dru felt so cheated. She was embarrassed, frustrated, and, most potently, filled with the thirst for revenge. Never before had she felt this rawness in her. It filled her insides, a fire licking at her fingertips, fueled by her rage and vengeance. Yet, there was also this emptiness that was there... It reminded her that she failed. No one believed her; they wouldn't believe her. She didn't know if it was because she was a Slytherin, a Malfoy, a small girl. Potter kept winning, while she kept losing. She couldn't keep losing. It fed this emptiness inside her; she needed to win.

She had to, otherwise, she was sure it would consume her. Or worse... Father would.

* * *

This feeling of failure would soon be alleviated though, coming to the following breakfast meal. Eyes downcast, Dru meekly ate a bowl of porridge with berries as she quietly listened to the gossip that Daphne and Pansy were all too happy to sing.

"Why so down, Dru?" Pansy chirped, scarfing down a piece of bacon drowned in maple syrup. "Sure you got detention, but so did Potter's minions."

Dru suddenly looked up, seizing her by her robes. Pansy huffed in anger at the blonde.

"What gives, Druella?!"

Ignoring her use of her awful name, Dru asked, "What do you mean?!"

"Dru, dear, let Pansy go; you're wrinkling her robes!" Dru listened, annoyed at Daphne's dancing around the answer. Pansy punched her arm before stealing a berry on the top of her porridge. "Now, if you bothered to listen, you would know that Potter, Granger, and Longbottom were caught last night sneaking out like you had assumed, Dru. As such, Professor McGonagall punished them. Fifty points, apiece. Also, they will be serving detention with you next week. The whole Gryffindor table has been ignoring them all morning. It's been quite a showing!"

Dru genuinely smiled for the rest of the day, and the following. Finally, finally, it happened. She won! Sure, she must also serve detention, but it was worth it.

She had won, but the joy quickly faded. Now, as the following week crept by with the looming threat of final examinations, she felt the emptiness again. She wondered what else she could do to fulfill it, but she would upon that later.

She had exams to prepare for and a dreaded night of detention to look forward to.

* * *

"Follow me first-years!" Mr. Filch muttered, hobbling along into the Forbidden Forest. "Detention will be served in the Forbidden Forest tonight, so I hope you had brought your wool cloaks. It's curiously colder in there, hmm. Come now, come now!"

His raspy growl frightened Dru as she nervously walked into the Forbidden Forest. Dru was never scared easily but the uneasiness of Mr. Filch, the ambiguity of the Forbidden Forest, and Granger's glare and Potter's indifference and Longbottom's heavy breathing had set her on edge. She was quaking in her polished boots, pulling her outer cloak tighter. She was thankful to be allowed to have her wand on her person. If she didn't she wouldn't have been able to walk into the forest. Still, she felt the fear in her heart as she walked.

She was surprised that Longbottom and Fang were the only sensible ones scared. Dru sensed the Gryffindor bravado and false pride in the others, minus Filch.

Filch was just too creepy. Thank Merlin he turned around when he walked the group to the Gameskeeper and his demon-pet.

Walking into the Forest, near the back of the group behind Potter and Granger and beside Longbottom, she listened to the giant explain their task.

"So, pas' few days been some silver drops of blood found all o'er te forest. Unicorn blood. So, we're splittin' in two groups and searchin' all o'er te forest." The handed the second lantern in his large, calloused hands to Longbottom. "'Arry and Granger will be with me while Neville and Malfoy will take Fang."

Dru grimaced as the large dog drooled all over Longbottom's hand, barking as he further slobbered. He seemed to be a peaceful, but lazy giant. How was he supposed to protect them! And certainly, Longbottom was of no use. marching forward repulsively, she snatched the lantern out of Longbottom's hands, leading the way.

"Come now, Longbottom. The sooner we find the unicorn, the sooner we get to leave!" Longbottom scurried after her as she walked back towards the small puddle of silver blood that had pooled on a small rock. Ripping a large leaf from the tree above, she pressed it into the liquid, avoiding touching it with her bare skin. She held it up to Fang, who quickly sniffed it. Despite slobbering all over it, he barked, pulling on his rope in a direction heading deeper into the forest.

Dru led the way with Longbottom too close to her liking, visibly shaking.

A few minutes in their quest, she had about enough of this boy's nervous energy. Bored of their task, she deviously came up with a plan to humor herself and hopefully loosen up Longbottom and stop his loud breathing.

"I think I see something." She said. "Here, take this. I'll be right back." Handing him the lantern, she quickly walked into a thick overgrowth of bushes. Giggling to herself, she quickly walked around Longbottom until she was directly behind. Waiting a minute, she rolled her eyes as he visibly became more paranoid. He even jumped at the chirping of an owl flying overhead. Using that as a cue, she quietly stepped behind him.

Creeping forward, she inched closer and closer. Longbottom remained unaware. _Perfect_!

"I didn't find anything-"

"GAH!" _Slap!_

"You foul, blithering idiot! Did you just slap me?!"

"I'm, I-I-I didn't know it was you!"

"Oh, my bloody Merlin! Ugh! You screamed like a girl! And you slap like one! Why I ought to-AAAHH!"

"Fang, get off her! Please, you can't sit on her you'll suffocate her!"

"GET THIS SMELLY BEAST OFF ME NOW BEFORE I-"

Hagrid hurriedly walked into the clearing to the sight of the Fang sitting on Malfoy, her face being furiously licked while Longbottom stood shell-shock, visibly shaking. Granger and Potter soon followed, quickly chortling at the sight of their nemesis.

"Fang! Come!" Fang slowly sat up, walking towards the Gameskeeper. Dru immediately sat up, wiping the slobber off her with her cloak. Her face was flushed in anger and embarrassment as she seized Longbottom's cloak and pushed him into a tree.

"You loathsome cockroach! Wait until Father-"

"That's enough, Malfoy! Now, seeing as the two of ye cannot be lef' alone, Longbottom will be coming with meh and Potter will join your group."

"Hagrid! But I didn't-" Potter protested.

"We don't have te time, 'Arry!" Hagrid groaned, rubbing his beard. "Past midnight now and meh feet are beginning t' ache from te cold. Let's hurry up, ye?!"

And with that, the giant took the blushing Longbottom and smirking Granger into the woods, following their own blood trail. Malfoy refused to turn to Potter. Instead, she grabbed the lantern the blubbering Gryffindor dropped and marched on with Fang happily following her behind; it seemed as if the large had found a new best friend in the aloof and cold Slytherin girl, and she didn't know if she should be grateful or worried.

"Slow down, won't you, Malfoy?" Potter said, jogging to keep up with the long-legged girl.

She didn't. "Chop, chop, Potter! I don't want to spend the night out here, least of all with the likes of _you_."

"Hey! What's it to you?" He hissed. Caught up, he grabbed her elbow, yanking her back. Immediately, she slapped it away and walked faster.

"Don't ever touch me again, Potter. Or I will show you why dumb boys shouldn't play with snakes!"

Potter groaned in annoyance at how impossible this girl was! First, she had tried to be his friend. Then, she would attack his best mate, but expect him to be friends with her still. Ever since he took sides with Ron, she had been attacking him and his closest friends ever since. They were the unwilling targets of her accidental curses, implied threats, and blatant name-calling. Frankly, he had enough of this cruel girl and her games.

"I said to come off it, Malfoy!" He growled. "Leave me and mates out of whatever it is you're up to. We haven't done anything to you or your other snakes."

She stopped suddenly. He could see her shoulders tense and her left fist clench tighter. He had hit a nerve, that much was obvious to the boy, but he didn't know what and how deep it cut.

She stared at him coldly, neither glaring nor sneering. She just watched him. It left him deeply unsettled, especially with how her grey eyes just seem to bore into him. He wanted to look away, to walk away. Something inside him was pulling him to treat her like Dudley and just let her have her tantrum and move on. Yet, there was a different part of him that wanted a confrontation. He wanted answers; answers that he knows he deserves.

Finally, she spoke. "Yes," she said in a surprisingly gentle voice. he seemed smaller that way, but still carried her class and pompous attitude that marked her a Malfoy. "you did, Harry."

Harry was at a lost. "What did I do, Malfoy? Stop playing your games and just spit it out."

Dru suddenly changed. Her vulnerability that was a moment ago disappeared. You wouldn't have assumed she could be gentle with how fierce her glare was now. She turned around, stomping off as she huffed in frustration. Boys are so stupid!

Harry huffed in annoyance too. Girls are so confusing! Still, he followed her and Fang deeper into the forest.

Nearly a half-hour had passed as they followed Fang. His tail wagging contrasted with Malfoy's sour face. He could see how her teeth clenched whenever he looked her way. But his mouth did too whenever he caught her glaring at him.

It was horrible, they both thought.

"Wait." Potter suddenly said. Malfoy turned around as she watched him crouch on the forest floor. He was pointing at something. She tugged on Fang's leash. The dog stuck his nose towards the puddle Potter found. He barked. "Unicorn blood. And it's thicker too."

"It shouldn't be too far then. Come on now, hurry up you sloth." She barked, finally happy to see the end of this horrible, horrible detention to come to an end.

Holding onto Fang's leash tightly, she focused her eyes on her surroundings, hoping to find the unicorn. Several minutes passed, and she saw a glint of lint to her left.

"Potter, on your left." She said before jogging towards it. She heard him following her. Fang barked again as they broke through into a clearing.

There laid the beautiful unicorn.

Dead.

Dru found herself both drawn in by the creature's beauty and air of innocence, yet appalled at the brutality of its death. Blood was spilling out its ribcage, right where the heart would be. Dru looked away at out respect, instead, she focused on its head and silky mane. She slowly approached, setting down the lantern as she gazed at it. She placed a hand on its head; it was still slightly warm to the touch.

She felt her wand pulse in her robes. It was cold and somber as if it was mourning. Dru frowned, feeling her eyes tear in sadness. Such a beautiful and innocent creature brutally murdered for no apparent reason. It frustrated her to no end.

"Dr-Dru..." She heard Potter stutter to her. She rolled her eyes.

"Well spit it out, you tosser!" She hissed, turning her head towards him to glare.

He pointed his finger at something in front of her. Slowly, she turned her head to see a hooded figure with silver blood dripping down its mouth and onto its robes. Dru felt her heart seize up in fear as she was unable to move. She was paralyzed.

She was going to die.

Suddenly, a cold hand tugged her back, and she stumbled. She looked up to see Potter.

"Run! Send the signal!" He yelled, slightly pushing her towards the Forest, where the giant and others headed. "Run!"

Fang and she dashed towards the clearing's edge, Fang barking the whole time. She heard footsteps behind her. Potter was right behind her, and that pushed her to run faster. Faster and faster. Her legs pumping. Never stopping. Her lungs burned but faster and faster.

Finally, she remembered to shot her wand up, its red sparks fizzing from it and into the sky. The signal.

Out of breath, she finally stopped running. She looked around and saw Fang heavily panting as he collapsed onto the ground. She held her sides.

Where was Harry?

He, he was right behind her, right?

Dread and guilt filled her stomach as she realizes that he wasn't running behind her. No, that was just Fang. He had never followed her in the first place. No, no, no, no! He was still in the clearing! He was still with the monster!

She hiccuped, tears following from her eyes. Guilt was eating her raw, consuming all her hatred towards him. The emptiness filled her. It was her fault. What will Father say? What will everyone say, when they learn The Boy Who Lived died at her hands?

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she saw Hagrid and the others find her.

"Where's 'Arry, Malfoy?" Hagrid boomed, his eyes watching her.

She bit back another hiccup. She looked at him. "I thought he was right behind me, I swear! He told me to run so I did, and I thought he was right behind me-

"You left him, all alone?" Granger screeched. "How could you? You surely got him killed!"

"'ermione, that's enough," Hagrid said. He turned to Dru, signing. "It's ok, squat. I heard the conch horn of the centaur Firenze; 'Arry should be alright with him around. He's a friend of Dumbledore's."

Dru felt this wave of relief wash over her as a tear fell. She quickly nodded, rubbing her eyes clean and standing up straight. She needed to stop being weak; Mother's voice was barking at her to lift her head and think straight. Now was not the time for emotions and fear. She needed a level head rather than a guilt-ridden one.

She followed Hagrid to a worn path. There, they waited almost half an hour before she saw a centaur appear. On top of his back sat Harry Potter, safe and unharmed. A bit shaky and pale in the face, but alive.

Dru felt all of her anxiety dissipate as she confirmed that she had, in fact, _not_ killed the Dark Lord's most essential component to his return and demise of Great Britain. And, of course, she wouldn't be condemned to Malfoy Manor for the rest of her life, more importantly.

When Potter slid off the centaur's back, Granger rushed to him, hugging him tightly. Dru rolled her eyes at the dramatics. Sure, she had cried, but that a mistake; something Dru swore to herself to never do again over that boy. In fact, he ought to know what he had put them through.

Marching over while pushing up her robe, she punched Potter in the arm-_hard._

"Bloody hell, Malfoy!" He hissed, clutching his arm. "What was that for?"

Dru huffed, crossing her arms and turning up her nose. "Don't be stupid again, risking your life to save someone. It'll only end up with you dead and causing even more harm than good."

And with that, Dru turned to march right back to the dorms. She decided she will sleep in tomorrow, missing her lecture of herbology. She deserved it after the hellish night she had to endure through. Too many emotions; too much guilt. She needed a break, a reprieve from Potter and his goonish mates before they completely destroy her with their stupidity and bravado.

* * *

Exams came and passed, and Dru wasn't surprised with her _outstanding_'s in every class, except in herbology, which she merely got a _exceeds expectations_. She was pleased with her scores, seeing her name on the number two spot on the first year ranking, with only Hermione Granger above her. She was mildly impressed with Granger; she was only a Muggle-born yet she exceeded a pureblood. Dru frowned, realizing Father would not be pleased with a _mudblood_ academically excelling her.

She didn't let that stop her, however, as she sat with her friends and housemates for the final night at Hogwarts. The Great Hall was decorated in green and silver. To no surprise, Slytherin had the most points in the race of the House Cup. At least she could tell Father of her house's success in that aspect.

She was laughing with Pansy and Daphne, making plans to visit and write over the summer. Daphne was heading to France and had invited Dru and Pansy to come. It left Dru jumping in her seat. She had something to looked forward to as she wilted in the stuffy Malfoy Manor under Father's watchful eye.

It seemed nothing could bring down her mood as she watched Headmaster Dumbledore begin his farewell speech.

He droned on and on about the bittersweetness it is to have one year come to a completion. The seventh-years shall leave us, but a new group of first-years joins us in the following fall. He was belated to see us all grow and prosper this year, but he had last-minute points to award before announcing the winner of the House Cup.

"What does he mean _last-minute points?!_" Pansy snarled. Daphne hushed her as they listened.

"To Ronald Weasley, for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, fifty points." A cheer broke in the Gryffindor table as others politely clapped their hands. Dru fumed in rage as she realized what the Headmaster was going to do. "To Hermione Granger, for the cool use of logic in the face of fire, fifty points. And to Mr. Harry Potter, for pure nerve and outstanding courage, sixty points!"

Everyone gasped as Gryffindor roared even louder as they clapped the first-years backs in pride. Dru growled in rage; they were tied with Slytherin!

"And, finally, to Mr. Neville Longbottom, for having the bravery to stand up to one's friends is the hardest trait to achieve, ten points!"

They had lost.

"Well, I believe that calls in a change of decor," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling as he clapped his hands. Instantly, the banners that were once the proud green and silver became red and gold. It left Dru furious and cheated.

Once again, Potter had won, even though he had the rules bent for him. She was tired of playing his game; she was tired of losing. As she glared at Potter as he plastered a large smirk on his face; she felt her rage and jealousy return, hotter and more potent than ever.

She realized then, at that moment, when he hugged his mates; that she had underestimated him. That was her first mistake. She had always assumed that because of his naivety, seeking approval, appeasement, and his meekness that she would easily sway him; he would under her finger with undying loyalty to her.

She was wrong. He was an attention-seeker, never allowing others to be in the spotlight for too long before he would snatch it out of their grasp. He manipulated people, utilizing his fame and money and power to accomplish his goals. He lets his friends fight his battles for him, so his hands stay clean. He acts meek, but he's secretly crafty and strategic. How else was he able to accomplish so much this past year, from winning the House Cup to joining the Quidditch team?

No, Dru vowed. She would not let this continue onto their second year. Life at Hogwarts would be very, very different for him. She would make it so.

Yes, Harry Potter will not beat her again. She had too much to lose and so, so much more to gain from his defeat. She looked forward to him in the fall; she had plans, great plans that Father had written in previous letters.

Let's see him and the other Muggle-borns try to stop her.

* * *

**Author's Note: **

**Hello readers! I hoped you enjoy part one of Druella's journey at her time at Hogwarts. I really enjoy writing her character arc, especially for her first year.**

**I really felt it important to establish a good foundation for Druella's motivations, goals, and fears in this part. It's the introduction of a badass character, with many tropes and traits to live up to in Draco's characters. While I strived to remain the essence and importance of Draco's role in the books, I also wanted to recreate him in a new light, showing his more clever and conniving side. **

**This is one part I believe that sets him and Druella apart. Druella, because of her position as a female in an elitist patriarchal society, is immediately underestimated, forcing her to continuously prove her worth, skill, competence, and intelligence to notable figures in her life, especially towards Lucius. This is something I really wanted to highlight, and I think I did that with her motivations in her rivalry with Harry. **

**Harry essentially has everything Dru ever wanted, that she believed that she deserved. With that, I think I developed a sustaining foundation on her hatred for Harry. **

**Another part of her character that I really wanted to emphasize in this introduction is her own pride and prejudice (btw, I love that movie!). She underestimates Harry, and that ended up costing her in the end. This first year, I think she learned that Harry is powerful in his own right, and she needs to improve and grow if she ever wants to defeat him. **

**Looking towards the future, I plan on expanding upon Draco's place of upcoming events at Hogwarts, and how that has greatly prevented her from learning how to empathize towards others, especially towards she deems lesser than herself, while also forcing her to grow a thick skin in a male/wizard dominated world. **

**Currently looking for a Beta reader. Please PM me if you're interested. This fic will be updated monthly because of its heavy, _heavy_ word count. (books 6 & 7 will surely be over 50k+, without a doubt.)**

**See you soon, dear readers! Please leave a review with your thoughts! **

**-maurik xx**


	2. Part Two: The Second Year

**AU. After their first year at Hogwarts, Druella quickly realized how capable Harry Potter truly was, and it seemed their second year served as a perfect time to do that. With a monster in the castle terrorizing students, Druella Malfoy sets another goal: defeat Harry Potter. Whether it be on the Quidditch Pitch, in a secret dueling club, or in a good old-fashioned one-liner, Dru is determined to show Hogwarts who The Boy Who Lived truly is, that is, before he beats her to it. **

**Fem!Draco/Harry**

**Part II: The Second Year**

* * *

Druella Malfoy didn't miss many things, because she was never one to feel regret or remorse for her actions. But she didn't realize how much she could miss her friends, Hogwarts, and magic. It was a deep, deep ache in her chest as she sat in the sitting room, reading ahead on her second year's book list. She was surprised she could feel this strongly about things as trivial as that, but she couldn't lie to herself. If anything, she would like to think of herself as above a liar; she was more of a selective truther if at that.

She closed her book in exasperation at her boredom and trivial heartstrings tugging her emotions all over the place. She was a cool-headed person, but right now she felt such a deep annoyance that it puzzled her. Pans would tell her to loosen her panties and Daph would tell her to stop grimacing or she would get pre-mature wrinkles.

That thought made her lips curl in laughter. She missed her friends terribly. Sure, she had just seen them two weeks ago on their Paris trip with Daphne's family, but since then, she hadn't received any letters from them or had been able to send any. According to Father, there were "essential dealings" occurring at Malfoy Manor that he could not risk for her silly friendships. That made Dru huff and stomp up to her room. So what? Were people _really_ that interested in what her Father and the stick up his arse had to do?

"Have you located the diary?" Father's voice faintly reached her ears. Dru stood up, straight as a stick, before she slowly walked to the edge of the sitting room, towards the parlor room. Silently, she turned her head, watching Father stand before the fireplace with his usual black cloak and staff. His usual charming voice was much more severe and urgent as he spoke to the fire again. "Good, bring it Malfoy Manor tomorrow at dusk. I'll have my elf retrieve it from you. Let no one follow you."

And with a wave of his hand, the image of a man in a weird mask and dark cloak vanished. Dru quickly ran back to her chair, opening to a random page, and began to hum a small tune. Not a moment later, Father appeared before her. She looked up to Father's watching grey eyes.

"Good afternoon, Father." She drawled, returning to her book. The best disguise is indifference; she learned that from Father after all.

"Druella, I see that you have begun your reading for your second year." He said, eyes never leaving hers. "Excellent, excellent. Carry on, I suppose."

And with a flourish of his cloak, he gracefully waltzed out of the room, towards his office. When she heard the door of his office close, Dru visibly sighed in relief. She suspected Father knew of her eavesdropping but decided to not initially confront her. She snorted; Father never was the confrontation type. He would rather wait for her to sit in her secrets, waiting for her to squeal when the knowledge and guilt were too much. He was sly like that, but Dru also knew his game.

She could wait. She would wait until tomorrow when the mysterious messenger with the "diary" would come. In the meantime, she would need to do some research on what exactly Father was planning. Mother would be as close-lipped and vague as always, always changing the subject at hand to a trivial ball or gathering occurring between the Sacred Twenty-Eight.

So, that left her with Dobby, the house-elf.

* * *

She waited until later that night when she could her Father's soft snores from down the hall. Tip-toeing back to her room, Dru closed the door, locking it with her key, before summoning Dobby.

"Dobby!"

"Mistress Malfoy!" She turned around to see the house-elf by her reading chair. Keeping his head lowered, he asked, "How can Dobby help, Mistress Malfoy?"

Dru grinned. "Hullo, Dobby. I was hoping you could answer some questions for me." She said, walking towards her chair before sitting in it. Dobby scurried to stand a few feet away, head still bowed. "It pertains to some of Father's work of the past few days."

She saw Dobby's ears droop and his face pale as he nervously rambled. "Dobby, Dobby cannot answer things for his Mistress, because, because, because!" Dobby immediately started to hit his head in frustration, assuming he would be punished for being a worthless imbecile that only hindered his masters.

"Dobby!" Dru hissed. "Stop that at once! I need you to answer a few questions. I don't need you to go and off somebody, Merlin!"

Dobby stopped. "Dobby is sorry, miss. Dobby will do his best! Dobby promises!"

"I know, Dobby, I know." Dru sighed, annoyed at how cruel Father could be. It was a real hindrance to her own plans. "It will be alright, house-elf. Father will never have to know, if Dobby promises not to say anything to Father, yes...?"

Dobby feverishly nodded. "Dobby promises, miss! Dobby will not fail his mistress!"

"Good." Dru nodded. "Now then, what are you allowed to tell me of Father's meetings, specifically with his conversation regarding a 'diary'?"

"Dobby, miss, with all the respect, miss, cannot says much, miss. Dobby can only says this. Master Malfoy, sir, miss, is planning something that can very, very much trouble a Mr. Harry Potter, miss. The most terrible things, miss! Master Malfoy plans to do this while Mistress Malfoy is at Hogwarts, miss. Master Malfoy, miss, is planning, planning rights now, miss!"

"Thank-you, Dobby," Dru said, troubled by what her house-elf has told her. "You may go, Dobby."

"Dobby is loyal to Malfoys, miss. Dobby is always faithful, miss!" Dobby cried, hitting his head on her wall. Never had Mistress said "thank-you" before. Surely Dobby had finally served his masters well!

"Yes, thank-you," Dru said again, a threatening undertone. Dobby sobered up before bowing again. And with a snap of his hand, Dobby, the house-elf, vanished from the room.

Dru was left deeply troubled by what Dobby had told her. While it was not much, it left a chill down her spine. What, pray do tell, was Father planning? Why did it have to with Potter? Does it involve the Dark Lord's ultimate return? How was that figure in the fire? A fellow follower of the Dark Lord, perhaps, or another informant on Father's payroll?

So many things were up in the air, and it deeply frustrated Dru. She hated being left in the unknown of Father's plans. She was used to being on the other side of Father's wizard's chess game. She felt more like a pawn then a castle or even a queen. Dru felt disposable, but Druella Lucia Malfoy was Father's namesake for Merlin's sake!

She would use this to her advantage. Yes, Dru would make the most of this opportunity. If trouble was coming Potter's way, then maybe she could use that to expose him, once and for all. Maybe a little trouble was all she needed to reveal the real Harry Potter, a conniving and greedy pig with an insatiable thirst for fame and power. Yes, this works well with her plans, Dru said to herself. Laying in her bed, she had sweet dreams of a Hogwarts where Potter's name was not said in awe, but in disdain. And, hopefully, that day will come soon.

* * *

The next day, Dru waited in the sitting room again, waiting to catch a glimpse of what package Dobby would receive. But, she never saw it. She assumed that Dobby, immediately Disapparated to hand the package to Father. She would ask Dobby again but feared that he would accidentally blab to Father that he had told Dru of his plans. Instead, she figured she could jimmy the lock to his office and find it there.

But, she should've realized that Father was smarter than to just lock the door. No, there were also magical precautions that Dru was stupid enough to forget as she kneeled in front of the door, picking the lock.

"Druella Lucia!" Father hissed, slamming his staff down. Dru jumped in fright as she turned to face her father. Standing up, she bowed her head in embarrassment. She was such a fool! "Tell me, dear child, why on Merlin's earth you were trying to break into my office?"

Dru knew she couldn't tell him the real reason; she would be barred from attending Hogwarts!

"I have no patience for insolence this late in the night, Druella."

"I only wanted to mail my friends, Father!" She simpered, hoping he would buy her excuse. "It's been two weeks, Father, and I figured I could use your stationary or owl to send my letters."

Dru watched her Father scowl at her. "As I have told you before, Druella, there are important ministry dealings that I am securing and I cannot afford anything to stop them, including your stupid need to send letters. Now, up to your room. You will not be seeing your friends next week for Hogwarts shopping. Instead, you will come with me on errands where we will shop for your supplies then."

"But Father! That's entirely unfair!"

"I do not care for what is unfair, dear child. I only care of my daughter learning obedience and loyalty! Remember, Druella, that family's blood comes first, before anything. I had thought you had learned that, but I was wrong in my assumption. I will not make that mistake again."

Dru refused to shed a single tear as she stomped up to her room. She wouldn't let Father win. No, she needed to stay calm and think this rationally. Otherwise, Father would always be five steps ahead of her, laughing at his insolent _daughter_. No, she needed to prove herself to him; after all, family's blood comes first, before anything.

* * *

For the rest of the weak and half of the next, Dru was locked up in her room. Father had banned her from leaving the Manor's premises, including to go and practice Quidditch. She would only be allowed to leave her room for meals and when a guest arrives.

She was essentially a prisoner in her own home. When she stopped coming to meals, Mother ordered Dobby to bring her meals to her room. They were of smaller portions with less of the decadent snacks Dru would have preferred, but she figured it was Mother's doing to make her come back down to meals again. But Dru wouldn't let them win. She'd rather starve the let Father beat her again.

It wasn't till the following Wednesday that Father decided her punishment was over.

"Druella, we will be going to Diagon Alley this afternoon to attend to some errands I need to do, as well as go shopping for supplies for Hogwarts. Please, do be ready by noon, waiting in the parlor room for me." Lucius Malfoy said over breakfast.

Druella nodded. "Yes, Father."

Lucius nodded before excusing himself from the meal to attend to "urgent Ministry matters" in his office.

"Honestly, Druella," Narcissa Malfoy huffed as she spread raspberry jam on her toast. "I do not understand why you must always get into trouble with your father. It is as if you enjoy spending your time all in your room."

"Mother," Dru growled, stabbing her slim piece of ham with her fork, "It is not as if I go searching for it. It just happens to find me."

Her mother only continued to spread the jam, ignoring Dru's comment. Dru miffed, crossing her arms. Mother always did this. She would admonish her daughter than refuse to give her the satisfaction of arguing. It was a brilliant ploy that always worked to bristle the girl. Dru wondered if her mother had always been this crafty, or if she only picked up a few of Father's tricks. Probably the first, because how else was she able to use her "feminine wiles" that she barked about all the time to Dru.

"Make sure you wear your new cloak your father bought last month. It would help to ease his hostility this afternoon." Her mother returned to her tea and morning paper, silencing the conversation.

"Thank-you," Dru muttered, reluctant to thank her for the tip. After all, she didn't have to handle a pissy Lucius today. In fact, Dru supposed she would go and treat herself with Pansy's mom. The lucky witch.

* * *

So far, the trip to Diagon Alley was not _unpleasant_, but it was certainly not enjoyable. Druella followed her father into Knockturn Alley, wrinkling her nose at the unpleasantness of this side of town. She would rather be at the Quidditch shop, looking at the new brooms on release.

Yet here she was in an ole musty shop that was just begging for her to snitch and caught awful diseases. Dru made sure to avoid touching anything that looked too strange and old; she didn't know where it has been before her, and she did _not want_ to get any sort of cancer from this.

Staying close to Father, Dru admired some oddities and trinkets near the front of the store. She watched him haggle the shopkeeper, Mr. Borgin, for two odd trinkets in his possession for a fair price. Dru wondered why he even bothers, seeing as they were comfortable already. But it was not her place to question Father, according to Mother and pureblood family hierarchy.

"I am afraid, Mr. Borgin, that these items might _embarrass_ me if the Ministry were to unannounced visit Malfoy Manor. As you well know, appearances are of the most importance, especially for old families nowadays. I must say that it's that Muggle-loving fool Arthur Weasley's doing with his frustrating Muggle Protection Act." Father drawled, his voice as charming as ever. Dru understood how easy it was for people to fall under his spell; he was such a charismatic man that even Dru found herself sympathizing for him. And he had just banished her to her room for over a week!

"But, of course, Mr. Malfoy, sir. Anything that I could do would be of service." Mr. Borgin said, an ugly smirk on his face. He was truly a repulsive man. Dru wrinkled her nose at his yellow teeth.

She ignored their haggling as she continued to browse the shop. She came across an old and large cabinet. It had beautiful carvings on the wood and was a lovely deep walnut. Dru admired it, reaching to open it when Father called her back to the front.

"Druella, my daughter, is attending her second year at Hogwarts come this fall," Father said. "She would surely be joining the Slytherin Quidditch team."

Dru beamed, flourishing under Father's praise. "Surely, I'll be made Seeker. And we will most definitely beat Gryffindor for the Quidditch Cup, I'm sure of it!"

"Yes, yes, miss. But, say, isn't Mr. Harry Potter in Gryffindor?" Mr. Borgin sneered.

"And it would make Slytherin's victory all the sweeter!" Dru snapped. "Everyone just thinks of The Boy Who Lived as all sweet and wonderful, especially with his ability with a broom, but I plan to prove that wrong, Mr. Brogin."

"Druella Lucia!" Lucius hissed. "It isn't wise to speak such ill towards the hero who made the Dark Lord disappear, especially in a public setting. My apologies if you favor the boy, Mr. Borgin."

"It's quite alright, Mr. Malfoy. I must say, I too, do not have a fondness for the boy who defeated one of the most powerful wizards of all time. Especially a half-blood such as him!"

"Indeed!" Dru miffed, crossing her arms.

"It seems as wizard blood is counting for less everywhere." Mr. Borgin lamented.

Lucius responded, "Not with me, Mr. Borgin." Turning to Dru, he further said, "Yes, it's a shame they allow those of no wizard family whatsoever into Hogwarts. That shameful flock bests my Druella in her studies and it frustrates me to no end, including that Mudblood witch from Gryffindor. "

Druella bristled under the attack, but quickly defended herself. "While I admit Hermione Granger is bright, it's only because of her supposed favor among the professors there, Father. Many of them simply despise Slytherin, so they will do whatever means to prevent the obviously better house from succeeding."

"I couldn't agree more, Ms. Malfoy." Mr. Borgin said. "I, too, was a Slytherin, and even back then they did not have a likeness towards our house."

"Well, I suppose we will be on our way then, Mr. Borgin. Good day to you." Father farewelled and gracefully exited the shop, with Dru following behind. She quickly turned to look back at the cabinet, swearing the door had moved. "Come along, Druella, dear." Dru shook her head and caught up with her Father. Surely, no one was in there. Who wants to be in that creepy ole shop anyways?

* * *

Druella continued to shop for Hogwarts. She was particularly excited when she walked out of Quality Quidditch Supplies with a brand new Nimbus 2001 that was set to be delivered to Hogwarts the week before try-outs. But she quickly sobered in grief when she remembered Daph and Pans were supposed to be there with her as she shopped. It riled up her anger again; anger towards Father, anger at Potter for besting her at Quidditch, and anger at Granger for besting her in class. It seemed everywhere she turned, Potter and his minions were there to stop her from succeeding.

This was particularly true when she walked into Flourish and Blotts with Father. A large crowd had gathered in the center of the store. A large wooden table sat there, piled high with books and pictures of the man standing beside it. A handsome man with a bright smile and wavy locks signed books for blushing girls and mothers alike, flourishing his quill pen as he signed. It was Gilderoy Lockhart, she deduced. He had recently come out with a magical biography called _Magical Me. _Dru didn't enjoy his works, finding him too flamboyant and loud for her taste.

Unsurprisingly, Harry Potter stood there beside him, taking pictures. It ruffled her so much, seeing him basking in the spotlight like the conniving, greedy little pig he was. Ugh! As if he was that special!

The small crowd continued to cheer and clap as they posed for pictures. If Dru knew any better, it was as if Potter seemed uncomfortable in the spotlight. She rolled her eyes at that thought; he was only acting meek and modest. She knew otherwise.

Pulling her eyes away from them, she shopped for the last couple of texts for her Potions and Transfiguration classes. Turning into another aisle, she found Potter with baby Weasley, hiding behind a stack of books. Dru smirked, waltzing up to the odd duo.

"Can't even go into a bookshop without making the front page, I see." She sneered, glowing in Potter's annoyance. "Fretting if they caught a bad angle, Potter?"

"Leave him alone!" The baby Weasley hissed, but she quickly backed away and hung her head in fear. Adorable, Dru cooed to herself.

"Don't overwork yourself, love. You have your life to do that!"

"Malfoy," Potter growled, stepping in front of the girl. "Bug off."

Dru sighed. "No need to get your knickers in a twist, Boy Wonder. I'm better off from talking to an attention-seeking brute and a whiny child."

She turned with a hop in her step, happy she had knocked him down a peg or two. He needed it, or his ego will surely explode. Hmm, maybe that wasn't such a bad idea.

"Druella, dear," Father called from the front door, her books in his hand. "Time for us to leave." He scornfully wrinkled his nose at an old, red-faced, freckled man with bright red hair. Mr. Weasley, Dru presumed. "Mr. Weasley, I see you have been working many hours overtime at the Ministry, but still can't afford to buy Ginny dear new books. Please, allow me to help a cousin..." He picked up one of Ginny's books, despising its rips and stains.

"Lucius, if you would-"

"Oh!" Father drawled. "I see that the young Miss Granger has brought her muggle parents. I did not realize you could sink no lower, Mr. Weasley."

"Lucius! Take that back you conniving, evil little snake!"

And with that battle cry, Mr. Weasley attacked Father, knocking him into the ground. Tousling and wrestling, Dru stared in wide-eyed wonder at the sight of Father even touching the dirt floor, let alone swinging at the red-haired man.

"Alright, you lot!" A booming voice ordered. Giant meaty hands pulled them apart. Dru saw Hagrid, the Gameskeeper, turn to Mr. Weasley. "Now, Arthur, yeh know this slime i'nnt worth it!"

Father dusted himself off before dropping the girl's book back into her hands. "Come now, Druella. We must waste our time with such filth."

And with that, Dru walked away, frowning in defeat. When she heard Hagrid say that those Malfoys were "rotten ter the core," she ignored him. She further ignored his later comment that they were "bad blood." The only bad blood here was Granger and Potter. She held Father's hand, squeezing it in reassurance as she continued to walk with him. He was right; family first, always.

* * *

Druella was happy to be back at Hogwarts. She was finally back with her friends, away from Father's ever-watchful eyes, and free from Mother's judging looks. She could be a normal twelve-year-old witch with her best mates, learning to do magic. Dru didn't want to worry about what Father's plans were right now; she just wanted to focus on preparing for Slytherin try-outs later in the coming months. Terrence Higgins had graduated the year before, leaving Slytherin without a seeker. She planned on replacing him and kicking Potter's arse come to the first Gryffindor and Slytherin match.

"Say, Dru, it seems like Potter is missing," Pansy said, muffled from her chewing food. Daphne huffed in disgust and elbowed Pans in the side.

"Honestly, Pans, it's like you want to be an animal."

"Oh, shut it, Daph!" Pans stuck out her tongue. "You're just made that I get to eat all the carbs I want while you're stuck with your soups and salads."

"I'll have you know that I'm choosing to eat healthier options, thank-you very much," Daphne said after a bit of her walnut salad.

"What do you mean Potter isn't here?" Dru asked, looking over to the Gryffindor table. Missing was the raven and red-heads belonging to Potter and Weasley.

"Rumor is the two stooges missed the train." Pans said, her voice hushing as she winked at Dru. "No stooges, no competition for Slytherin."

Dru sighed wistfully. "If only, Pans."

"Say, Dru," Daphne nudged her side gently. "You're still planning on trying out for seeker position, yeah?"

"Of course, Daph. It's mine for the taking. No one is as good as me; no one would even dare to try-out for it!"

Daphne rolled her eyes. "Whispers from over there say that Adrian Pucey, a third-year, is also trying out for the seeker position."

"Please!" Dru said, her eyes narrowing at the dark brunette further down the table. He was lanky for a third-year: Dru planned on using his height against him. Speed versus reach. "I could find the Snitch before he even kicked off the ground. Piece of cake."

"Alright, Dru!" Pansy cheered, shoveling the chocolate cake into her mouth. "That's the spirit!"

Daphne laughed when Pansy began to choke on her food. Clapping her back, the girls dissolved in giggles.

Yes, it was so good to be back home.

* * *

Come the following days, she learned that Potter and Weasley have made it back to Hogwarts-in a flying car! Ugh! The audacity of them to show up like that; it reeks of them begging for attention. It only infuriated her more when she learned that no points were taken from Gryffindor for their obvious rule-breaking.

But, she decided to ignore Potter's pathetic plots for attention, choosing to focus on the upcoming tryouts for the Slytherin team. She knew she could beat Adrian Pucey in her sleep. There were still nerves though. They didn't leave her, even as she flew circles around the poor bloke. She had caught the Snith each match in lighting speed. Even Marcus Flint, the dull and stupid captain, nodded in approval of her skills.

They only disappeared when she saw the Slytherin team line-up posted in the common room Monday afternoon.

"Daph! I did it!" Dru cheered, hugging her friend. Daphne laughed at her excitement.

"I knew you would, love. Now come on, we need to go tell Pans the good news before she threatens Flint and Pucey again."

"Wait, she did what?"

"Nevermind that, Dru! Come on!"

The girls were laughing as they ran down the corridor towards the Great Hall. Sure, Dru had an early practice on a Saturday this week, but she was too ecstatic to let it bring her down. Potter could go shove it in his face for all she cared. She was going to destroy him out on the Pitch, and maybe then people will finally notice the blithering idiot he was.

* * *

Her team was marching onto the field when they saw others flying on their broomsticks-Gryffindor.

"Flint, we booked the Pitch." Oliver Wood, captain of the Gryffindor team growled as they approached them. He seized up Druella's captain, Marcus Flint, as he glared him down. "What are you and the other snakes doing here?"

"Special Permission from Professor Snape," Flint said, shoving the note into the other captain's hands. "We need time to train our new seeker."

"A new seeker?" Potter asked in disbelief. He thought that Terrence Higgs was still on the team.

"Yes, Potter," Dru sneered. "Do keep up, will you?"

"Malfoy!" She turned her head to see Weasley, Granger, and a small boy with a larger camera trotting onto the field. "Please! That snake probably cried her way onto the team."

"Said the boy who isn't even on a Quidditch team." Dru retorted, frustrated that the Gryffindorks hadn't left the field already. She wanted to start practicing and they would be pesky little flies.

"At least no one had to buy their way onto the team." Granger sniffed, nodding to the team's brand new brooms-the Nimbus 2001.

Dru bristled at her insinuation. Father had only bought these brooms as a congratulations gift for her when she wrote him the new Monday evening. He didn't bribe anybody! Dru got on the team with her own talent and skill, and an annoying and snobby little girl wasn't going to take that away from her! No one was going to diminish her capabilities!

"Like I would listen to a filthy little Mudblood like yourself!"

When the words left her mouth, Dru instantly regretted it. Watching Granger's face break into tears before her made her feel guilty. The Gryffindor team was in an immediate uproar, but the Slytherin team held their ground. Meanwhile, Dru stood staring at the ground, a tear threatening her eye.

Pointing his wand at Dru, Weasley snarled at her a curse, but because of his broken wand, it rebounded to him. Flint and the others laughed at his pathetic attempt to protect his friend. Dru didn't do anything, instead of staring coldly at the trio.

Potter and Granger left to take Weasley to the Gameskeeper Hut, making their team disappear to their lockers, leaving Dru to mull over the words that she said.

* * *

Dru didn't allow herself to mull over what she said; it happened and she can't change anything, so might as well focus on the more important things ahead: Quidditch.

The practice was hard and unrelenting. Flint was especially hard on her, the only new member of the team. She was the youngest and, unsurprisingly, the only girl on the team. She figured Flint had meant to keep it that way; she heard the rumors that he was going to pick Adrian Pucey over her, but the other chasers and beaters gained upon him. She had to think that Pansy's harsh threats and Daphne's connections had a part to play in that. She refused to consider that Father had actually bought her a spot on the team.

So what if he did?! Come the first match after Halloween, she would show all of them! She was a good player, an even better seeker than Potter! She'll catch the snitch and win them the game. She will.

With that to motivate her through her classes, Hogwarts seemed normal for the most part. Despite their Professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts, Lockhart was a total dud, she was excelling in all of her other classes. She was thankful that she had decided to get ahead on the reading selections. She was ahead in her homework, her scores rivaling with Granger's. Had she didn't despise the snotty girl, she would be impressed with her intelligence. It was nice though to think that stupid boys were dominating their class; it was them.

Still, she enjoyed the competition. Granger pushed her to do better, and it made her work harder. Dru was actually enjoying the long study hours, harsh practices, and constant busywork. It kept her mind preoccupied. She felt productive; a real witch, making her mark in Hogwarts.

It was Father's mysterious letter that threw her off her rocker, that morning three days before Halloween.

The family's owl, Athene, a beautiful eagle owl, came swooping into the Slytherin table for the morning meal. Dru was hoping it to be another package of sweets Mother sent to help bribe the librarian to let her stay long hours again come next Monday, but she saw Father's specific family crest stamped on the letter with a thick package attached. Merlin's Beard, what did she do now?

It wasn't a Howler, thank the Heavens. She was still giggling over Weasley's Howler a month before. His petrified face had never been redder since that day. But Dru knew better to not be laughing; karma was a tricky thing, and she figured she would be on the other side soon.

Scratching the owl, she cooed at it. Feeding it some of her bacon, the owl flew off.

"Whatcha got der, Druh?" Pans said, half-asleep on the table. She decided to wait until the last minute, yet again, to complete Professor's Snape assignment.

"A letter from Father," Dru said, puzzled.

"Your father?" Daphne asked, furrowing her thin brow.

"Yes..."

Opening the letter, Dru read:

_To My Dear Druella,_

_As you grow older, I believe that it is a duty bestowed on me as your father to prepare you for upcoming events in your life at Hogwarts. Knowledge is power, my dear. Use this to your advantage, for the coming months I have heard may be trying. Fear not, dear daughter, for our Dark Lord is with us. _

_Enjoy your readings._

—_Your Father_

_Lucius Malfoy,_

_Head of Malfoy Manor_

"Soooo..." Pansy trilled. "What did he say?"

Dru shook her head, thinking best this letter stay private. "Oh, nothing. Just proud of me and my work. It's a gift, I think."

"You think?" Pansy rolled her eyes. "Well, open it!"

Tearing open the lovely wrapped package-Mother, no doubt, put this together-Dru gasped at the old text before her: _The Magical Accomplishments of Salazar Slytherin_. It was an old book, with a dark leather bounded cover and gold-leavened pages. It was beautiful, surely from Father's ancient and valuable collection in his private office. But, why did he give it to her?

"Oh. It's a book. Boring!" Pansy complained, turning back to her bowl of oats and berries. Daphne, however, marveled at the artifact.

"Dru, I, I think this is the first edition, published hundreds of years ago. It is a beautiful present!"

Dru frowned. "But, why this book? Surely Father is trying to hint at something..."

"But you said it was just a gift?" Pansy narrowed her eyes at Dru, detecting a white lie.

"He did say that, Pans, but Father is more, hmm, _complicated_ for a simple gift. He probably meant for it to mean something, to give me a clue as to what is to come. I'll need to start reading it right away!"

"But you said you'd help me with my Herbology tonight!" Pans whined into her goblet before slurping her pumpkin juice.

"And I will, Pans!" Dru said, squeezing her hand. "I promise."

It only took Dru about two days to read the mammoth book. Over four hundred pages dedicated to the sole biography of Salazar Slytherin, the founder of the Slytherin house. It was a bittersweet tale. A tragic story of his beloved, the founding of a great school, and disagreements of student selection and teachings. Yet, as Dru continued to read, other information was divulged. According to the text, Slytherin disappeared for a brief time during the construction and early days of Hogwarts. Disappearing for days on end, he would briefly return to select new students, before disappearing. Then, there were rumors of a terrible monster that roamed the castle for a period, but they were only rumors according to the book. The book also said that Slytherin was an accomplished parseltongue, the ability to speak to snakes. Another theory the book proposed was that all who could speak the language were most likely related to Slytherin himself and that his heirs could be marked with his pendant, a serpent in an S-shaped. However, that locket was lost over time.

As she read, Dru found this certain darkness in the text; the book itself lacked many of historical facts, basing its stories and research on rumors and old legends. She felt that there was a hidden warning, a clue, somewhere in the book, that Father wanted her to find. She couldn't pin her finger on it, so more research will need to be done.

Besides, Halloween was approaching! Dru looked forward to the Halloween Feast and exploring the castle with Pans, Daph, Blaise and Theo-Blaise invited him, saying he was smarter than he looks but a tad bit too aggressive and competitive. Dru didn't care, because she knew Pans would tell off with her nasty right hook. She didn't quite understand how they came up with exploring the castle; it was stupid, to say the least. The Prefects would most likely have extra patrols, but that only gave Dru a bigger thrill. She understood the appeal of recklessness that those Gryffindorks enjoy so much; her heart fluttered at the thought of almost not getting caught. Also, Dru always had the itch to go and explore places. She remembered that she would do that as a child as she grew more comfortable in Malfoy Manor. It's how she came to know the cellar had a barrier where you can enter, but cannot leave without a Malfoy person or a spell. It's also how she knew there was a secret passage from Father's office to the southeast corner of the estate, the side kissing the forest's edge.

But as Halloween finally arrived, and she sat at the Feast, Dru felt a tug at her heart. Something wasn't right; she knew that, deep in her bones. She didn't quite know what it was though, and Dru despised not knowing something.

"All right, love?" Pans chirped, plopping her bum on a seat and serving herself a large slice of lamb and bread pudding. "Your face is as pale as a ghost? Did Nearly Headless Nick rant off to ya?"

While Pans was guffawing at her joke, Daph narrowed her eyes at Dru, studying her face. Dru often looked away whenever Daph gave her _the look_. It put Mother's to shame. Dru rolled her eyes.

"Fine and dandy, Pans," Dru said. "Just cheery as a peach."

"Spill," Daph barked. "Now!"

"Too much?" Daph continued to look, her blue eyes cold as Hogwart's winter.

"Come off it now, Dru!" Pans groaned, munching away. "Should we tell the boys to bugger off for tonight? My bed does sound a bit cozy right now. Millie and Tracey can stay; they're harmless as those wisp plants in Herbology."

Dru groaned in annoyance. "Don't be daft, Pans. I am excited for tonight; just a bad feeling is all. Sure it's something I forgot in my room."

"No need to be a cheeky monkey, dear."

Daph squeezed Dru's hand, before quickly reaching back for her goblet. "Just a pip and we head to the kitchens and ask the house elves to whip us up some hot chocolate, alright love?"

Dru smiled, truly smiled. She was so thankful for Pans' loyalty and Daph's empathy. These two really made her would a lot brighter, a lot cheerier. She didn't know what would happen if they hadn't met when they were so little. If Dru were the emotional type, tearings would be raining down like England's springs and summers.

They enjoyed the rest of the meal, Pans teasing Theo and Blaise on their obvious crushes on Daph and Tracey. Then it quickly turned to Quidditch, something that brought back Dru's famous one-liners and fierceness. It was a good meal-a good night with good friends and more to come.

With the Feast ending, Dru and the company made plans to regroup in the common room to change out of their robes and into something less conspicuous. However, they never fulfilled their plans that night, and they greeted a true horror in the second-floor corridor outside of the Great Hall.

Potter, Weasley, and Granger stood, eyes widened in horror at the sight before them.

Stiff as a board, Filch's cat, Mrs. Norris, hung by her tail from one of the torch brackets. A large puddle of water below the cat. Above her, a message that read:

_THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE._

Dru stood in horror, her mouth gaping. The whole hall was silent, but Dru was too busy realizing that this was Father's mysterious message.

Somehow, he knew about this. Dru suspected it was connected to the "diary" she had heard him talk about all those months ago during the summer holiday. Father warned her with the letter, quelling her fears that she would be safe. If she were to be safe, then she wasn't an enemy of "The Heir." But, who is the heir? The heir of what?

Chamber of Secrets... She had heard of something vaguely familiar but from where.

The book! The book Father had sent! So he was, in fact, preparing her from the upcoming terrors Hogwarts will face. She had read that there were rumors of a secret room, a secret _chamber_ where Slytherin would go to during his time at Hogwarts. Wizards and witches at the time gossiped it was a room of worship to an evil deity, others said it was a shrine to himself, relating to his know arrogance and prowess as an accomplished wizard for his time. Could it be that this Chamber of Secret's is related to Slytherin's lost room? And, assuming it would, that what makes him the heir, yes? Or would it make one of his descendants or disciples or worshippers or whomever that he favored his "heir"? Then, who would be his enemies or the heir's enemies? Who could possibly stop or hinder their goals or plans or beliefs?

"Muggle-borns," Dru whispered to herself. "_Mudbloods_."

"What did you say, Dru?" Pans asked, her voice quivering as Dru saw the paleness in her face, her brown eyes bulging.

"Enemies of the Heir, it's the Muggle-borns!" Dru hissed, fear dripping in her voice.

"Enemies of the Heir are the Mudbloods?!" Pansy shrieked, her voice carrying throughout the corridor. In that instant, panic voices and gasps flooded the hall, heightening the terror and confusion. It was a thick cloud of panic overlaying the Hogwarts student body; it was heavy and suffocating.

"That's quite enough!" Professor McGonagall barked, her cloak whishing as she stood before the travesty. "Merlin's beard! Mrs. Norris!"

"No, no, no!" Mr. Filch cried as he realized who it was. Turning viciously to Potter, a dark and menacing growl came from him, scaring even Dru. "You did this, Potter! You murdered Mrs. Norris!"

Gasps once again came from across the corridor. Soon, Headmaster Dumbledore arrived.

"Please, all Prefects escorts the students back to their dormitories!" Dumbledore boomed, his voice shaking as well. Dru could see the fear and pain in his face as he too, bowed his head in remorse. "No students will be allowed to leave the dormitories under any circumstance! Classes will be canceled tomorrow! Further instruction will come later tonight from your house's Prefects!"

No one moved.

"I said back to the dormitories!" Dru never heard Dumbledore raise his voice like that. What the situation was as grave as she thought it was? Was Mrs. Norris really dead? Was anyone safe from this monster?

Dru was consumed by these thoughts as she followed the rest of the Slytherins back to the dormitories. The seventh-year Prefects stayed behind, as well as the trio. Dru figured they would return to Dumbledore's office to discuss what they had seen and if they were in any way responsible. For some reason, Dru didn't believe that any of them did it, even Potter. This magic, if it magic, was beyond these second-years, even with Granger on their team. No, Potter was just an attention-seeker again, like always.

Still, Dru wanted to ask him questions on what he saw, heard, thought, anything! Dru needed to know! Sadly, their relationship wasn't exactly the kind where they shared thoughts and ate cake and made friendship bracelets. No, she would have to find out another way. Come tomorrow, Dru will head straight to the library and begin her research.

She had so many questions. What is the Chamber of Secrets? Where is it? Can it be closed, or will it have to be destroyed? Who is the heir? Is a singular witch or wizard, a group of worshippers, a cult? Is it even a magical being, or is it an ancient creature? Finally, what monster could be capable of such terrible, terrible things?

Despite Dru's assumptions that the enemies of the heir were, in fact, the Muggle-borns, was she safe? How can this creature, this monster, distinguish who is a friend and who is a foe? Who's controlling it? Can it be controlled? Is it a singular being, or is it more than one? Can it be stopped? What is its goal, its endgame?

These questions left Dru more uneasy and skittish then level-headed. She didn't have a plan or even a clue as to where to begin. All she knew now was that the rest of the year will never be the same.

* * *

"Spit it out, Dru!" Pansy hissed, glaring daggers at the quiet girl. It was only the three of them in the second-year girl's dorm. Millie and Tracey elected to stay with the first-years in the common room, sneaking them some pumpkin juice from the Feast. Dru had been quiet on their walk back, hanging her head down as her thoughts consumed her. Pansy was huffing and stomping away, infuriated by Dru's vague comment, while Daphne held in her temper, choosing instead to cooly stare at anyone who dares to look at her. But once they stepped into the room, Pansy went on the offense, demanding some answers. "What do you mean that the enemies of the heir are the Mudbloods? And who the bloody hell is this heir?"

Dru stayed quiet, choosing to look out the window. The Black Lake was like its namesake, a black, inky pool of water. It was more ambiguous in its nature, neither friend nor foe, but it depended on how you were looking at it. Right now, Dru was just calmed but its lull. It strangely comforting, it's current and depth.

Pansy didn't have the patience, however, for Dru's quietness. Stomping forward, she seized the girl's arm, painfully squeezing it. Her brown eyes seemed darker as she stared at Dru.

Dru rolled her eyes, pulling her arm out of Pansy's grasp. "Bug off, Pans. Everything's fine."

"That's not true, Druella." Daphne cooly said, her voice piercing through Dru's defense at her horrible first name. "You've been keeping something from us for the past week, and it's eating you alive. Just tell us, love."

"I don't know what I know!" Dru hissed back.

Her emotions were bubbling over, forcing Dru to retreat back to her bed. Pushing past Pansy, she collapsed on her bed, tightly shutting her eyes closed. She couldn't breathe. Everything coming into her head and out was too, too fast. Everything was happening too fast for her to process, to get a bloody grip on what she had seen down in that corridor.

Taken aback by Dru's sudden display, Pansy's anger began to dissipate. She was still irked at Dru' snappy attitude towards them for the past few days, but right now, her friend needs her. That came first. Slowly, Pansy moved to sit by Dru on her bed. Slowly stroking her hair, like her aunt did whenever she had a bad fright, Pansy inhaled deeply.

"Just, just tell us from the beginning, Dru. Tell us what you do know, love."

And, suddenly, Dru sat up and rested her head on Pans' shoulder. Daphne soon came to sit beside her, squeezing her knee tight. Everything began to pour out of Dru. Everything from the diary, the ominous letter, the book, seeing Mrs. Norris, the implication of who had done and that Father had known about it... everything.

Never before had Dru spoke so freely to someone, so vulnerable. She was the kind of witch to keep it all to herself, a selfish trait. She preferred to keep in all of her secrets. She needed them because they gave the advantage in a world where she was already leagues behind others because she was the sole heir, a woman, born from a disliked family where heritage and blood was everything-_everything_. She needed these secrets to have some sort of power, of control, of the situation. Yet, in this tender moment with her two closest mates, her sisters, she felt free. She could tell them; she had to-to keep them safe.

She couldn't stop it even if she felt that she was giving too much of herself away. It kept pouring out. The darkness poured away, replacing it with this warmth that she hadn't felt since, well, never.

When she was finished, Daphne, surprisingly, was the first to speak.

"So, the book states, multiple times, that there was a strongly rumored secret chamber, somewhere in Hogwarts castle, that only Salazar Slytherin knew about, yes?"

"Don't be daft, Daph," Pansy sneered, rolling her eyes as she combed her thick brown hair with her ornate hairbrush, a gift from her aunt. "She already explained that part to us. Just make your point already."

Ignoring her, Daphne continued. "Well, the next logical question is why is it being opened now? Why this year? What event, or thing, or magical object or being or _person_ made it a prime opportunity to open the Chamber of Secrets now?"

Pansy nodded her head in defeat. "Ok, maybe you do have a point there, Daph."

Daphne rolled her eyes, rubbing a vanilla bean lotion into her legs. "Of course I so, Pans. I'm not daft!"

"Never said you were, you tosser!"

"Daph, go back to your point." Dru hissed, glaring at Pans.

"Well, perhaps we need to separate our questions into categories regarding certain things?"

"Yes, that sounds good," Dru mumbled to herself, twisting her ribbon into her two french braids before reaching for her schoolbag, snatching out a quill and parchment. Sitting at her desk, dipping in her quill, she began to write. "First, a category for the Chamber of Secrets."

"Ooh!" Pansy shouted, pointing her finger at the paper. "Write down who or what opened it and how."

Dru nodded, adding, "Along with Daphne's points about why _now_ and what event or thing allowed it to happen now."

"Also put where is it located and how we can find it or access it?" Daphne chimed, furthering lotioning her arms and shoulders.

Dru added those to the list. "Anything else?"

"Hmm, probably make it a point to ask its connection to Salazar Slytherin," Pansy muttered, inspecting her cuticles. She needed a manny, but it wasn't like she could just leave Hogwarts to get one! Ugh! The nuisance of Hogwarts isolation!

"I was gonna make that the next category, Pans," Dru replied, writing _Salazar Slytherin_ down on the paper as well, drawing an arrow to _Chamber of Secrets_.

"Write if this is his Chamber of Secrets," Daphne said, patting her extra shower towel over her body to help make the lotion less oily on her skin. "Also, write if he was the only one to access it or if he had some sort of fellowship or apprentices or descendants or cult members, etc. "

Pansy twitched her nose. "Ugh! As if our house founder was the leader of a cult. If anything, it would be that Hufflepuff lady. There's _no way_ that lot is always so cheery without it not involving something else."

Dru happily threw a pillow at Pansy, laughing at her ridiculous theories. "Be serious, love. They could possibly hear us through the wall with their _plants_."

The girls dissolved in a fit of giggles as they laughed at the absurdity of their jokes. It was well past midnight, but Tracey and Millie were still down in the common room, probably watching over the sleeping first years. Dru wished she was as good as them, watching their own kind.

Daphne quickly sobered up though, a depressing thought occurring to her. "Dru, love..."

"What is it Daph?" Dru impatiently tutted, furiously writing down more points to consider.

"Should, should we consider your father involved?"

Silence.

"Yes, yes I suppose we should," Dru mumbled to herself, so soft that the other two girls could barely hear her. Slowly she wrote _Lucius Malfoy_ on the paper.

"Wait, hold on a second..." Pansy said, standing up to pace around the room. "So, if we were to assume that, somehow, Dru's dad knew about what was going to happen, perhaps he was also a part about accessing or finding or even opening the Chamber of Secrets, yeah?"

"Pans-" Daphne tried to interject, but Pansy was on a roll.

She continued. "Then would the diary you saw would have anything to do with it, Dru?!"

Dru nodded. "Most likely, but I never saw what he did with the diary."

"Well, the diary probably had something to do with opening the Chamber. Maybe an incantation or a ritual was inscribed with it, or list of conditions and ingredients for a spell or potion..."

"Pansy!" Daphne rebuked sternly. Pansy stopped and raised a brow at her, daring her to explain why she had interrupted her. Daphne turned once again to Dru.

"Dru, tell us what you're thinking, love."

Dru sighed deeply. "Father surely had something to do with it. And," Dru inhaled again. "I think it has to do with the Dark Lord."

Silence, but there was a thick and heavy layer from the mere mention of _him_.

"Why, why do you say that, Dru?" Daphne asked, her voice shaking.

"Because he said it in the letter." Opening the drawer in her desk, she showed them both the letter, with the last haunting line.

"Merlin's beard, Dru!" Daphne gasped, squeezing her fist. "We, we have to show Headmaster Dumbledore! This, this is bigger than we thought! Dru, we are way in over our heads. Imagine the trouble we would get in if anyone found it! Expulsion! We could even be arrested for even mentioning that you were working for him-"

"Daphne!" Pansy growled. "That's enough!"

Daphne squeezed her eyes tight, trying to even her breathing. No, no her family will never work for that evil _man_. Not after nearly destroying her father and her uncle. No, she had to protect them- to protect Astoria, her little sister.

"We, we have to, Dru." She whispered, her voice so soft.

"We can't, and we won't. " Pansy declared. Dru looked at her, her grey eyes emotionless and unforgiving. Pansy nodded again, further cementing her belief. "Daph, if we were to go to Dumbledore right now, all we have at best is circumstantial evidence, and I know this because my mum is in the Wizard Wizengamot. While it could give them leads to stop this monster and close the chamber, it could also find evidence to implicating Dru's dad of crimes. He would go to Azkaban for the rest of his life. What about Dru and her mum? They would be stripped of everything..."

Daphne hung her head in shame, mad at her so carelessly forgetting how it would affect her friend. Dru saw this, and walked over to her bed and squeezed her hand.

"It's, it's ok Daph," Dru said. "I know you didn't mean it like that."

"In the meantime," Pansy clarified. "We can focus on researching the Chamber of Secrets and its relation to Slytherin and what kind of bloody creature is there anyway."

"Wait," Dru looked at both girls in the eyes. "Because, because of what Pans and I said tonight, I'm sure we'll be pulled into the Headmaster's office to ask questions about what we know. We will _only_ talk about the book that I brought here from my father's collection to learn more about the house. We will _not_ mention the letter, my father's warning, and involvement, or the diary."

"Promise." Daphne softly spoke.

"Promise." Pansy reaffirmed.

Dru smiled in relief. "Ok, in the meantime, I'm sure Slytherin will be blamed for this because of what I said, so watch out for the first years."

"Aww," Pansy cooed. "You care, Dru!"

Dru threw another pillow at the girl.

So much had happened that night, but Dru would like to think that was the night she and the other girls became true friends. After that night, Dru knew she could always count on them. They were her family now, and family always came first.

* * *

The next few days after the _incident_, all everyone could talk about what who could have done it and what the creature could be. There was sort of a frenzied panic as most students never wandered alone after dark, per the Prefect's instructions. Dru, too, was also worried, but about different things.

Father knew, she said to herself, a mantra these past few days. He knew and he did nothing to warn the school, to protect her or her friends. He did it for his _Dark Lord_, and that's what scared her the most. She thought he had been defeated that Halloween night so many years ago. She actually thought Potter, as a one-year-old, stopped the evilest and vile wizard to have ever walked in Great Britain. But, to this day, over a decade since his demise, his presence was still there, haunting her family, whisper to Father to do unspeakable things in his name.

To do things like this: release a monster unto the school.

Was Father evil, like Lord Voldemort? Or was he a victim, forced to do his bidding in order to protect his family? Dru hoped, prayed, it was the second option. It had to be.

Her fears grew even more during her History of Magic block with the Gryffindors. Granger, ever the curious girl, asked Professor Bins, the poor ghost, about the Chamber of Secrets. Surprisingly, he knew more than Dru had hoped. So, so, so much more.

"Well, Miss Granger, the Chamber of Secrets is a legend in Hogwarts History. It's an old story, going far back as the founding of this great institution. You see, Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry was built in a time of great panic and fear in the wizard and human world. Magic was feared by common people, and witches and wizards suffered much persecution. The four founders, Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin, worked together to seek out bright witches and wizards to invite to come to Hogwarts as a place of learning and safe haven. However, as the years went on, a great rift grew between the founders. Salazar Slytherin was a clever, resourceful and determined man, but very cautious at that. Because of what he had seen during this time of great tension between the common man and a wizard led him to grow mistrustful and hateful towards them, especially muggle-born students. He believed, as a measure of security, that only students from all-magic families should be invited to teach. He believed the Muggle-born students to be untrustworthy. Soon, this rift led Slytherin to leave the school, but legend has it that before he left the founders, he secretly built the Chamber of Secrets within the school. It's said that only his heir could open it, but to this day, after centuries of looking, no one has ever found this place, leading it to be viewed as a myth by many."

"But, Professor," Granger pushed. "What _is_ in the Chamber of Secrets."

Sighing deeply, Professor Bins gravely said, "A monster. A horrible monster that only the Heir of Slytherin alone can control. A monster to purge the school of all who are unworthy to study magic."

Gasps and whisper overtook the class as Dru's worst fear came to life. Pathetically, Professor Bins repeated that it was only a myth, but everyone knew better. Now, he had inadvertently turned all the houses on Slytherin. By tomorrow morning, Slytherin will become as much as an outcast as it has always been. But now, there was evidence for the three house's resentment. A petrified cat. An ominous threat towards all Muggle-born students.

No Slytherin was safe now, especially her.

* * *

Dru noticed the more blatant glares and sneers she and her friends would receive whenever they strolled through the hallways. The whispers of rumors always slipped into her ears, never quite out of ear-shot. They were small at first, talking about how of course it would be _Slytherins_ who would unleash a horrible monster in the castle. Then, they increasingly grew in fantasy and terror, like how maybe it was Druella Malfoy who was the Heir of Slytherin because of her apparent knowledge of the story and her family's known hatred towards Muggle-borns. But other names were tossed in the mix, like Marcus Flint so Slytherin could win the Quidditch Cup, or one of the new first-years because they were whiny about being sorted into Slytherin. Yes, the last one made no sense to her either, but that didn't surprise Dru.

However, the rumor that surprised her the most was that Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, was the Heir of Slytherin. Honestly, it shouldn't have surprised her. Potter was the sort to always snatch the spotlight from others. Why he would want that thorny crown made no sense to Dru. Then again, her second year has been very confusing since the start.

But they were just rumors. Speculations founded on not a solid piece of evidence. The student body was just scared, but so was Dru. Dru made sure to never walk alone, clinging onto Pansy and Daphne whenever she could. Even better, Pansy started to make the boys follow and check up on the girls. It was especially amusing to watch her threaten to hex the life out of Crabbe and Goyle when they shrugged her off. Now, Dru was never alone, those two oafs sometimes following her from the library to class or to the Pitch.

Throughout all of this, Dru tried to focus on other things, like the upcoming matches. Marcus Flint, despite being one of the truly dumbest boys she has ever met, knew one thing, and thankfully that was Quidditch. His practices ran long and hard. He was especially harsh on Dru, still snarling his lip whenever it seemed she lagged behind. But no, Dru excelled. Time and time again, whenever he would set the rest of the team to find the Snitch, she would always be victorious. In fact, Dru realized that there's a _strategy_ behind catching the Snitch.

You couldn't just dive for it, because it would tip off the other Seeker. Then, it's a race to catch it, and that's where Seekers get hurt. No, Dru learned you have to be smart in how you approach it. You could casually fly around, making your opponent think you haven't spotted it, but you actually did. However, you would risk a chance that they would spot it and dive for it before you could. Then, there's the option that you could do a fake dive to throw off the other Seeker if they were following you real close. Dru liked that method, seeing as one of her annoying beaters had to play Seeker for a bit so she could get some practice. The twat actually ran into a pole. Dru couldn't stop laughing for days after that.

But, focusing on Quidditch could only do so much. Still, Father's words haunted her. She couldn't shake them off, no matter how hard she tried.

What irked her the most of all was that she had _known_ what he was capable of, where his alliances lied, and the amount of hatred he harbored towards Muggle-borns. She lived with him all her life, learning his beliefs, cultivating them as her own because she believed Father knew better and he would never want to hurt her. Sure, she was born a girl, but he had chosen to keep her as his child. He had chosen to not have another child after Mother's difficult delivery. He wanted her as his daughter, even if it meant he would not have a male heir.

She thought Father loved her; she thought he was good because he was good to her. But Dru couldn't wrap her brain around it. Was Father still good, or was he evil now? Was he always evil? Will he still be Father? Did he still love her?

Dru didn't know who Lucius Malfoy was anymore, but she couldn't find it in herself to hate him. He was her father, and that meant something. She repeated Father's mantra in her head the rest of the day through classes: Family is always first, no matter what.

With that belief instilled in her, how could she hate this man? No, the family was first, so she would always believe Father. He loved her, so why would he want to do wrong by her?

* * *

November brought the cold northern wind, but it also brought the beginning of the Quidditch season. Her first match: Gryffindor.

Dru had hoped she would play Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw first, hoping to show Potter just how good she was as to instill the fear of Merlin in him, but, sadly, he would have to experience that himself.

Dru was jittery with excitement and nerves. It was her first-ever match, and she knew she had to win. Not only would it put Potter in her place, but she could prove that Slytherin was just as good as they always been, despite the recent accusations. She realizes that she was as much invested in this match as the rest of her team was, especially Marcus Flint, as it was his last year at Hogwarts. They needed to win, no matter what.

And they carried this determination into their early game with a 60-0 lead. Flint was relentless, constantly moving, weaving away from the Bludgers. Pucey and Montague were just as fierce, the Quaffle moving through the goalposts. Dru felt their fierceness come into her play as she continued to seek out the Snitch.

At times, Potter was right on her tail, narrowing his eyes at her to see if she had caught a glimpse of it. She would lead him on a wild goose chase then, immediately diving down and around to see if he would keep up. It seemed to rile him up even more, whenever she would look back and smirk at the boy. His shaggy hair always seemed to be in his face and his glasses were smudgy as ever, but she wasn't sure how he could still see the Snitch on the other side of the Pitch.

However, Dru began to notice something peculiar. Potter would constantly weave and dive for no reason. As she looked closer, Dru saw that it was a Bludger that hurtling itself towards the boy. Again. And again. And again.

Dru felt herself grow in fury as she realized someone obviously bewitched the thing to target him. She wouldn't put it past Flint to do that. It irked even more because the referee could give a penalty towards their team if they caught anyone, risking their lead or worse, the game. This was her first game, and she was gonna win because she earned it. She doesn't need anyone else doing the work for her. Ugh! These buffoons!

Soon, to the least of her surprise, Gryffindor calls a time out. She watched them as the Weasel twins were yelling to Wood, their captain. Probably saying what she suspected, Dru thought. Would they call off the game? Would they need to protect the precious Boy Wonder?

Dru turned to Flint, who was addressing the team.

"Ok, we have the lead. Malfoy, you better find that Snitch soon or by Merlin's Beard, I will pummel you to the ground." Flint growled, his face red in anger.

"Come off it, you bugger." Dru sneered. "We wouldn't have to worry about ending the game so quick if you haven't hexed the Bludger!"

Flint gaped. "Ya honestly think I'm _that stupid_ to hex that damn thing? Against Gryffindor?"

Before she could retort, the referee ended the time out and Dru rose again. She decided to go high like Potter had, searching for that glint on the Snitch. Potter was distracted by the Bludger, so she would use that to her advantage.

Suddenly, Potter was flying towards her, having the Bludger seemingly lost on his tail. Dru rolled his eyes when he came closer.

"Bug off, Potter." She hissed. "I don't need your bad luck with that Bludger coming at me now-" But he quickly dove past her. Dru realized that he had probably found the Snitch, and quickly flew after him.

The wind was harsh against her face, but she could easily catch up to him. She was lighter and on a faster broom, giving her the speed to break the gap between them. However, she noticed how his left arm was clutched close to his chest, and how he winced whenever he moved it.

Was the damn thing bloody broken? Dru seethed, her heartbeat rising at the pure stupidity at the boy. Was he so needy for the spotlight that he would risk his arm just to win? Dru was slightly impressed at his determination but mostly irked because it was still an idiot thing to do. However, this idiot thing was lowering her chances at catching the Golden Snitch.

Lower and lower they flew, each reaching out a hand for it. It was dangerous for Potter with his broken arm, but Dru didn't care. She needed to win more than him. He chose to play still instead of calling it, so she'll use that to her advantage.

But, the bloody bloke actually _dived_ for the Snitch, rolling onto the ground. Dru prayed to Merlin that he missed, but when she saw him reach his good arm up with the Snitch, Dru just about lost it. She had lost to a boy with a broken arm who just fainted on the Pitch.

Father will not be pleased.

* * *

That night, Dru couldn't sleep. She was still too restless from the match. After Potter waking up and having the idiot Professor Lockhart made all his bones disappear-it was a small victory for Dru, sniggering at Potter's utter horror; honestly, he looked like a dying fish with the way his boneless arm kept wiggling. Still, Flint was furious, and so was the rest of the team. However, Dru was quick to remind that they were able to gain another twenty points before Potter snatched the Snitch, making the game 80-150. Dru refocused the loss as a "minor setback." She knew the Quidditch Cup wasn't based on wins, but total points from all three match at the end of the school year. So, Slytherin could still win seeing as how Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff lost all their best players last year.

Still, Dru felt the doubt and humiliation gnaw away in her stomach. If they lost, she knew it would be her fault, and she hated that. Dru knew she was a good Quidditch player, but it seemed that Potter was just better. She knew not to underestimate him after her failed attempts at putting Potter and his minions in detention, but she did it again. She thought with his broken arm, she would surely win.

No, she won't do that again with the next match come next year. Despite how much her team hates her right now, they still know she's the best they have, so they need to stick with it.

Yeah, that'll do.

But come the next morning, when the news of a Gryffindor first-year, Colin Creevy, was found petrified with his Muggle camera still in hand, Dru wasn't so sure if things could ever look bright again for her or her friends.

The air became thick with rumor and suspicion, as first-years only traveled in groups from classes or to the Pitch. Many even bought protective devices and talismans to protect themselves from the terrible monster. From what Dru had seen, a peculiar girl with hair like hers, maybe even more white than silver, from Ravenclaw wore a very large one. She saw her one day talking to the baby Weasel out in the courtyard, trying to encourage the girl to wear one too.

The tensions grew between Slytherin and the other three houses. The most verbal and aggressive was Gryffindor. Hufflepuff relied mostly on gossip and glares, whereas Ravenclaw didn't bother with them. But, Gryffindor took this as an opportunity to play more hexes and pranks on the Slytherins. The poor first-years needed to have at least some older Slytherins watching them at all times, otherwise, it was bat-bogey hexes for all of them. The professors cracked down on them, mostly Professor Snape, but Dru had caught one or two of them conveniently looking elsewhere.

It made Dru's hatred for Potter and his friends grow all the more, especially when she saw the Weasel twins harassing her and her friends. But Slytherins weren't victims; they fought back.

Where it would be to conveniently place the blame of class interruptions on the Gryffindor's when in Potions, or having the Prefects specifically seek out Gryffindors out of bed and withdraw a slighter higher amount of points, the Slytherins fought back. Dru herself hexed Potter and his friends when they had come back from their weekly visit with the giant-man, placing a well-timed leg-locker curse when they were walking through a muddy part of the path. While they hid behind the large bushes, Dru felt such justice seeing those three idiots growl and curse her name. Serves them right for acting all high and mighty as they perused the halls, glaring at any sign of a green scarf on a student. But, Daphne didn't let her place the curse on for too long. She quickly said the counter-curse as they made their escape back to the common room.

Soon, it became an all-out war at Hogwarts; and Dru was at the center of it all with her distinct rivalry with Harry Potter, the face of those Gryffindorks.

But what bothered Dru the most out of this war was that she shouldn't act surprised by it. She knew everyone hated Slytherins. Her house was always seemingly better at most parts at the school from winning the House and Quidditch Cup almost consistently to the fact that Lord Voldemort came from Slytherin. However, their prejudiced irked her the most. It revealed their hypocritical views. They say Slytherins were the representations of decades of pure-blood grooming and discrimination, but in reality, if you were to say you were a Slytherin, you would be ostracized.

The truth to it was that Slytherin was alone in this war. Sure, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw play nice compared to Gryffindor, but everyone had a common enemy: Slytherin.

But it was the other way around to Dru. From what Father had told her, to what she has seen and what her friends say, she saw Gryffindor as the enemy, especially Muggle-borns who play the victim. They would never admit that they antagonize purebloods just as much as it is the other way around. If anything, it was the Muggle-borns fault for the whole monster mess in the first place! Why couldn't they just go to their own school, or better yet, why couldn't Dru have gotten to a different one, free from all of this hypocritical prejudice!

Dru instantly regretted that when she came to that conclusion as she sat in the Library, researching more about the Chamber of Secrets. Had she not come to Hogwarts, then she would never have become as close to Pans and Daph or to Blaise even. She loved her friends; they were her family. And family always came first, no matter what. Her family was being attacked now, so Dru would do anything in her power to save them.

And if it meant catching the Heir of Slytherin and delivering them to justice, so be it.

* * *

Later on, Daphne and Blaise joined her in the Library working on their own assignments as Dru read up on another biography about Salazar Slytherin. The man had quite an interesting life, Dru mused to herself.

"Say," Blaise spoke as he approached her table, setting his books and parchment down. "Dru, anything interesting about _you know what_?"

Dru rolled her eyes. "It's not exactly a secret, Blaise."

"Excuse me if I thought it was a bit on the convert side of things."

"Well, if you must know," Dru continued, closing the book. "Salazar Slytherin was one the most powerful and gifted wizards at his time. In fact, many speculated from his duelings with Godric Gryffindor that he was _the _best because he always bested the man."

"Of course, violence is the _only_ way to show if you are competent." Daphne drawled to herself.

Dru snorted as Blaise sarcastically laughed.

"Anyways, besides being one of the four founders of Hogwarts, it's said that Slytherin had numerous gifted abilities, one of them being he could speak to snakes."

"As snakes could talk," Blaise said. "Wait, sorry Dru, I forgot that you could."

Dru promptly thumped his head with her book-_hard_. Daphne cackled as Blaise led out a girlish cry from pain.

"Come off it, Zabini." Dru chortled.

"Don't be miffed, Malfoy."

"Wait, Dru, love," Daphne suddenly said, closing her own book and sitting up straight. Well, straighter; Daphne was always one for prim and proper and all that. Honestly, Mother adored her maturity and elegance. "Go on about the ability. I didn't know snakes had their own language."

"I mentioned it earlier when I first showed you, Daph," Dru said. "but Slytherin was a parseltongue. Apparently, if you could speak it, you were most likely a descendant of his as there was no previous record detail of any other witch or wizard before him that demonstrated this ability."

"Really..." Daphne muttered to herself, biting her lip as she was in thought.

"What are you thinking about Daphne?" Blaise asked, fluttering his eyes a little too much in Dru's opinion. She could see how obviously smitten he was with Daphne, but who could blame him. She was a classic beauty, with long golden hair and delicate skin. She was delicate in every aspect of her face, from her large-doe eyes to her slim figure. She was beautiful in every way that Dru wanted to be. But Dru was a little angular for Mother's taste; she wasn't soft like Daphne she had said one time.

But Dru knew better. Daphne was anything but soft, and it showed in how Daphne rolled her eyes at Blaise's infatuation with her. She couldn't care one bit about Blaise, or any boys in that manner. She would rather focus on her readings and skincare.

"Well," Daphne replied. "Maybe the monster in the Chamber of Secret is a snake then?"

"Really?" Blaise said in disbelief. "A snake could cause that kind of damage?"

"Well, it's definitely a theory." Dru defensively retorted. "It would explain how only an Heir of Slytherin could control it, assuming that the heir is by blood and that only blood relatives could inherit the ability to speak to snakes."

"Exactly!" Daphne was glowing as she realized she made a breakthrough in the investigation.

"Nicely done, Daphne."

"Oh shut up, Blaise!" Dru barked. "You called it hogwash!"

"No, I didn't!"

"Shut it, Zabini!"

"Ow! Stop hitting this face! I need this face!"

"Like your looks will make you graduate from Hogwarts."

"You're right, Druella," Blaise winked. "My charm will send me along quite nicely."

"Ow! Not from you too, Daphne!"

* * *

The rest of the month was dull compared to its beginning. It only grew colder and more grey with thick snow blanketing the grounds. However, there was an unusual lack of Holiday cheer from the students. By this time in December, many were excited to go home for Holiday, or looking forward to Christmas at the castle. The gloomy days grew shorter, and Dru felt her faith in uncovering the monster in the Chamber of Secrets diminished with every day that passed. After Daphne's proposed theory, Dru research every possible serpent or serpent-like reptile that could be the monster. However, none of them fit her theory or could fit the timeline. It seemed utterly impossible; it seemed that this monster could only be dealt with by Ministry-intervention.

Yes, that's something Dru considered. Why hadn't Headmaster Dumbledore enlist the Ministry's help, or called inexperience monster hunters to help with the problem? A boy had already been petrified, and the fear and anxiety left the houses guarded and aggressive. What would it take for them to realize _how serious_ this matter was!

However, it seemed a solution for this was to start a four-house dueling club. The first meeting was on the 17th at eight o'clock. Dru was positively excited for it, expecting Potter to be there, of course, in the spotlight.

Pansy and Theo were particularly excited, hoping to out-duel each other. Blaise and Daphne didn't really seem to care for it, preferring to go because everyone was going. However, Dru saw this as an opportunity to finally best Potter, to show him that he was pathetic-a fake. Professor Lockhart, that stupid oaf, and he probably arrange meetings to have their pictures taken for the newspaper.

And that was the one thing Dru was worried about: Lockhart was leading it along with Professor Snape. She knew Professor Snape would be taking charge of the meeting because Lockhart probably didn't know one thing about actual Defense Against the Dark Arts. She saw through his glamourous locks and charming voice; he was a fraud as much as Harry Potter was. No wonder they get along so well and were chummy.

Dru and her friends walked into the Great Hall, about ten minutes before the meeting began. She saw a good majority of Hogwarts present already even though it was mostly yellow and green ties present. Honestly, it baffled Dru how other houses could possibly _think_ of being late. Mother would have her head if she _ever_ showed up after the scheduled time. Of course, the exception was a ball, as it's proper to show up later in style and grace—that bit was even more confusing to Dru Malfoy.

The long dining hall tables were replaced with a golden stage along one wall. Overhead, a thousand floating candles were lit. The ceiling lost its usual sky charm and was once again a black velvet shade. It was breathtaking as Dru bristled with excitement.

Her fingers were tingling and she felt the back of her neck shiver; Dru had never been this excited for something since Quidditch. Her wand was tightly held in her hand; she could feel it, a soft humming coming from the unicorn hair. Dru was buzzing with anticipation with a ridiculous smirk plastered on her face.

"Thinking of hexing the Mudbloods, huh, Malfoy?" Goyle snickered, crumbs from supper still on his chin. Crabbe was even worse, a dried smear of gravy on his lower cheek. Honestly, Dru didn't know how she could survive with these goons supposedly watching over her as Father and Pansy said; they could barely handle themselves.

"No, I think she's imagining you slipping on your robes again like in Potions." Pansy sneered, cackling when Goyle turned a beet-red, his fists clenching.

"Listen here, Parkison," Crabbe said, trying to menace but his baby fat cheeks made it more of a pouting face. "You better watch your tongue before you find yourself in a tricky spot, yeah?"

Dru crossed her arms as she glared at the two goofs. "The only tricky spot you boys find yourself in is which foot you put into which food."

The girls laughed at the two boys snorted in embarrassment before forcefully pushing them aside. Daphne rolled her eyes at her two friends.

"I suppose we will need to go by the kitchens on the way back to bring them a sweet." Daphne drawled, inspecting her cuticles as she stood in boredom.

"Why would we need to go do that, Daphne?" Dru said, looking around the room as more students filed in. "They're just a bunch of pansies-" Panys harshly elbowed Dru in the side as she huffed. "Sorry, Pans. I mean they're a bunch of tossers. Let them go cry themselves thinking they're not scary enough."

"You need their protection," Daphne said cooly, sounding more and more like Narcissa Malfoy by the minute with the tap of her foot.

"They can barely make it through a class without setting themselves on fire!"

"Still, your father convinced their fathers to convince them to watch over you. Hogwarts is not pleasant right now, in case you could not see that, Druella."

Dru glared at Daphne. "Don't call me that, Daph."

"Promise to play nicer?"

"Fine."

Daphne smiled beautifully. "Splendid."

"Gather round, gather round!" Lockhart called, waving an arm around for silence. Dru wrinkled her nose at the sight of the fraud brandishing his wand in his expensive plum robes. "Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent!

"Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little dueling club, to train all of you in case you ever need to defend yourselves. Much like how I have done on countless occasions-for full details, see my published works!

"Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape," said Lockhart, flashing another one of his brilliant smiles. Dru swore she saw a gold tooth glimmering. "He tells me knows a tiny bit about dueling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry- you'll still have your Potions master when we're through, never fear my dear students!"

"Wouldn't it be better if Professor Snape finished him off?" Pansy muttered to the girls.

"With how the Professor is sneering more than usual, I think you're not too far off." Daphne agreed as all the girls giggled into their hands.

The girls watched as the two professors turned to face each other, bowing. Lockhart was more ridiculous in this manner with a twirl of his hands while Snape did a harsh jerk of a nod towards him. As Lockhart droned on about "acceptable combative position," Dru wondered how quickly Professor Snape would disarm him. She was praying for a strong hex at the least of this demonstration.

"One—two—three—"

Both of them swung their wands above their heads and pointed them at their opponent. With a strong conviction, Snape cried: _"Expelliarmus!" _There was a brilliant flash of scarlet light as Lockhart was blasted off his feet. He flew backward off the stage, smashing into the wall. Comedically, he slid off the wall and sprawled on the floor, groaning in pain all the while. It left Dru and the Slytherins in tears at the utterly humiliated expression on Lockhart's face as they cheered for Professor Snape.

"Well," Lockhart said, tottering back onto the platform with an unsteady stride. His locks had fallen out of his hat and were in his eyes. He looked more like a bloody idiot than anything. And they called him a professor? "There you have it! A Disarming Charm-as you see, I've lost my wand-ah, thank you Miss Brown-yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind my saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you it would have been only too easy- however, I felt it would be instructive to let them see, yes..."

Professor Snape's dark eyes were murderous. Dru saw the blood drain out of Lockhart's face as he instructed the students to be put in pairs.

Dru looked to Daphne, Pansy, and Blaise, who had joined them, as they stood by their pairs. Dru had wanted to pair up with Blaise, but Pansy was quick to snatch her arm, whispering into her ear: "Let the two get to know each other! Honestly, it's hilarious to watch Blaise make a fool of himself around Daph!"

"Time to split up the dream team, I think," Dru overheard Professor Snape sneer to Potter and Ron. He looked around, finding Dru in the crowd. "Yes, Weasley, you will partner with Finnigan. Potter-"

She watched him move over to Granger.

"I don't think so," said Professor Snape, smiling coldly. "Miss Malfoy, come over here. Let's see what you make of the famous Potter. And you, Miss Granger-you can partner with Miss Parkison."

Dru smirked in victory as she realized the wonderful opportunity as she strutted over to Potter. Now, she could finally show him that she was the better witch and that he was a fraud. Her smirk stayed with her as they briefly inclined their heads towards one another, their eyes never looking away. Dru could feel the same hum as in the beginning. She was feeling this wonderful rush; just the idea of showing this oaf what a pathetic wizard he was made her antsy in anticipation. Father would be so proud. Everyone would see. This could change everything!

"Wands at the ready!" shouted Lockhart.

She raised her wand, bringing her left foot back.

"When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your opponents-only to disarm then-we don't want any accidents-one...two...three-!"

But Dru knew that those who played by the rules never got far, so she said her spell on "two": Her spell hit Potter so hard she swore she saw a tear leave his eye. But he was quick to recuperate as he pointed his wand and shouted _"Rictusempra!"_

A jet of silver light hit Dru in the stomach. Dru felt the air being kicked out of her as she doubled over, clutching her stomach. He quickly followed with a Tickling Charm, making Dru collapse to the floor in giggles. She glared at him through her laughter as she quickly pointed her wand, ignoring Lockhart's warning: _"Tarantallegra!" _Potter found his legs jerking around of his control like a kind of quickstep or dance.

However, the duels ended when Professor Snape shouted "_Finite Incantatem!"_ Potter's feet stopped dancing and Dru stopped laughing, finally able to look up.

The whole room was a mess with the greenish fog hovering in the room. Blaise and Daphne were on the floor, panting. Crabbe and Goyle were loopily walking around as they clutched their stomach. Millie was holding her arm as Tracey and Theo looked on in worry. What made her laugh the most was the fact that Pansy had Granger in a headlock-a bloody headlock! Dru cackled and held her sides as she saw the poor muggle-born crying in defeat, whining for Pansy to let go. She saw Potter rush over and pushed Pansy away. Dru was quick to come over and step in front of Pansy, holding her wand up in defense as Potter quickly reciprocated her movement.

They eyed each other. Finally, Potter put down his wand when he saw Lockhart walking over. Dru quickly followed, turning back to Pansy to give her a high-five. This dueling club has turned out much better than she had thought!

Dru ignored Lockhart as he admonished the students for their blatant disregard for his rules, then suggesting that they should learn how to block these harmful spells rather than learning how to cast them. Dru perked her eyes when Professor Snape spoke, saying that she and Potter were capable of demonstrating.

Dru smirked as she realized she was given a second chance to destroy Potter.

They were escorted to the stage, placed at opposing ends.

Professor Snape approached her. "Perhaps it's time to show Potter a little house pride, yes?" She nodded.

Dru nodded again as she laughed at Lockhart's deplorable demonstration of how to block a spell. Potter was gonna get it now!

"Three," Lockhart shouted once again. "two—one—!"

_"Serpensortia!"_ Dru bellowed as she quickly raised her wand at Potter.

The end of her wand exploded. A long black snake was shot of it. It fell heavily to the floor between the two wizards as it reared its head, ready to strike. She ignored the screams as she stood in anticipation of how Potter would react.

"Don't move, Potter!" Lockhart barked. With a flourish of his robes, he pointed his wand at the snake. "I'll get rid of it!"

But he only shot the snake clean out of the platform, making it land ten feet away in front of Justin Finch-Fletchley. Enraged, the snake hissed as it poised again to strike, but this time at the Hufflepuff boy.

Suddenly, Potter stepped forward, shouting words. However, they were another language; a language based on long and sort hisses. It was disturbing as Dru shivered in fear. What was he doing? Was, was he talking to the snake? Suddenly, the snake fell dormant; it was like a docile dog now as it stared at Potter. Did Potter tell it to stop? Or did he command it to obey? Or both?

The Hufflepuff boy yelled at Potter in anger before storming out of the hall, his friends following close behind. Dru listened to the mutters going through of the crowd as they realized something new about their supposed hero.

He was a Parseltongue.

* * *

"So, it seems Potter is the Heir of Slytherin," Pansy muttered through a mouthful of biscuit the next morning at breakfast. "Wonderful."

"Tt." Dru miffed. "Like Potter would even know what that means, let alone use it to his advantage. He's a twat like that."

"Someone is a little bent out of shape about the duel being called a tie," Blaise teased, sipping his coffee.

Dru shoved him with her elbow. "It wasn't a tie! I obviously won! Potter needed a Professor to help him get rid of it; if that doesn't show people how utterly stupid he is, then no one can be saved."

"No need to get so lippy with me, love." Blaise retorted. "Yes, we all know Potter sucks. Bout time others see that, blah-blah-blah."

"Don't be a wanker, Blaise."

"Don't be a priss, Druella."

Dru suddenly pointed her wand at Blaise's face, her grey eyes narrowing. "Say my name again, you tosser, or should I demonstrate a hex for you?"

"Ugh!" Daphne snorted in disdain. "Stop being little children."

Blaise blushed while Dru rolled her eyes.

"It appears you're right, Dru," Daphne continued, cutting another piece of her eggs benedict. "Potter has been facing backlash from the snake incident. Seems everyone realized that he's not exactly what he appears to be."

"Yeah, good on you for thinking of the snake." Pansy cheered, clapping her back. "What made you think of it anyway?"

Dru shrugged. "Professor Snape said I should show him a little house pride."

Blaise snickered as he ate another piece of blood sausage. "What a funny man, that one is."

"Did you see his face when Lockhart implied that he had _let_ him win!" Pansy said, clutching her side as she snorted at the memory. "I thought he would be turned to stone with that look!"

Dru hid a smile as she sipped her morning tea, happy for once that something right finally occurred in her life at Hogwarts. Potter was finally losing his followers, and Dru could almost taste the sweet victory of her finally defeating him. Father would be so happy to hear how no one cared for The Boy Who Lived.

"So, if Potter was the Heir of Slytherin, did he open the Chamber of Secrets?" Daphne suddenly asked the group.

"He would be the only one capable," Blaise answered. "I mean, he speaks Parseltongue, right? Isn't that some kind of requirement?"

"Yes, I suppose it is," Dru said thoughtfully. "Even if he is, what he would be getting out of this? Wouldn't it only tarnish his self-image as a 'hero'? I know he's a bloody idiot, but he couldn't possibly be that stupid!" Dru paused. "No, that sounds about right."

"Hmm, but he's only a half-blood," Pansy said. "Even if he was a descendant or a disciple or a whatever, he wouldn't be picked in the first place. Slytherin only wanted purebloods."

Daphne nodded her head, her manicured fingers gently wiping her mouth with her napkin. "Pansy has a point. We should be looking for a pureblood then. Perhaps someone is manipulating him to open the Chamber. It would explain how he was always there when something like that happens."

"Yeah, it seems Potter is always there..." Pansy mumbled, happily sipping her pumpkin juice. Suddenly, she stood up with a swish of her robes. "Come one you lot, off to Herbology we go!"

"Pans, darling, it's canceled remember?" Daphne said, opening the wizard newspaper as she sipped her tea. "No Herbology today."

"Then why are we up so bloody early?!"

* * *

The Holidays finally came, but with an even thicker sense of dread with the attack of Justin Finch-Fletchy and Headless Nicholas, a Gryffindor ghost. Both were found the following morning after that breakfast, to the students' horror. And, to no one's surprise, Potter was found at the scene of the crime.

More and more compelling evidence was being found to support Potter as the Heir, but it didn't sit right with Dru. Was he even capable of supporting that kind of Dark Magic? She knew he was always seeking the spotlight, but it seemed this had gone too far. Besides, Father knew about this, and Potter hated her family. Would he willingly work with him? Was Father manipulating him? Was Potter more like his father's side, a pureblood elitist, or did he still show favor towards his mother, the poor muggle-born? Or, was he as clueless and stupid as she truly believed him to be, oblivious to the entitled power he was given?

Dru's head was clouded with these thoughts as she prepared for her exams and papers before the Holiday. More questions were being asked than answered, leaving her tired and drained constantly. Dru wished to go home for some bit of solace from the mystery, but it would seem her parents thought otherwise as she discovered days before the break.

Lucius Malfoy wrote:

_My Dear Daughter Druella,_

_While I understand the certain chaos and fear embedded in the school's spirit as of late, I must implore you to stay at Hogwarts Castle over the Holiday break. Your mother and I have plans to visit some important and potential business partners in Russia. Sadly, it would be no benefit to any of us if you were to accompany us, as it's strictly confidential. _

_Have no fear, as Mr. Gregory Goyle and Mr. Vincent Crabbe were more than happy to stay and keep you company over Holiday. I'm sure they will give you the peace of mind they give us. However, have no fear, as I have told you earlier this year. It' all within our Dark Lord's favor; it has been fifty years in the making, my dear daughter. Hopefully, those Mudbloods will learn as that Mudblood girl learned fifty years ago in death._

_Still, I should advise you about staying out too late and to never walk alone. _

_Mother and I will send post during Christmas day with your gift attached. Perhaps use this as a time to make haste of early studies and finally put that Mudblood in her place. _

—_Your Father_

_Lucius Malfoy_

_Head of Malfoy Manor_

_P.S. By the time this letter has reached you, we would be in an area unable to receive post, so please do not reply to this letter, my darling. _

_Also, remember to care for yourself; you never know when the perfect suitor may find you and I'm sure your wild eyebrows and sharp tongue would chase them away._

_Happy Holidays, my love. _

—_Your Mother_

Dru threw the paper onto her desk as she screamed into her pillow. Ugh! Of course, they would leave her here to go off on their own adventures. Sure, Malfoy Manner was prim and proper over the Holidays with their annual balls and charity events, but it was better than being stuck here-alone-with those two idiots.

And she groomed herself, thank-you very much Mother! She was a lady and a smart one at that. She knew that Father didn't want her nose in something, most likely about the Dark Lord. Ugh! Who even refers to someone as that? It's utterly repulsive and ridiculous if you would ask her. Also, it made it sound like she was apart of a cult and she was stupid. And if anything is true in this world, Druella Lucia Malfoy was far from stupid.

If anyone was stupid, it was Harry Potter, the Weasels, and Crabbe and Goyle. And her parents and their passive-aggressive attitude and manipulative qualities.

The sourness of her mood from the letter stayed with her as she bid farewell to Pansy, Daphne, Theo and Blaise for the Holidays. She wished they had stayed with her, but Daphne had plans of visiting their summer cottages in France, Blaise and his mother would be going to Italy, Pansy for would be visiting relatives in Birmingham, and even Theo would be traveling with his father to Russia! She was left all alone to fend for herself. It honestly felt like it would be the worst Christmas come to pass.

But, Father did give her a subtle clue. He had said that it had been fifty years in the making, implying that fifty years ago, the Chamber had opened and a girl died. She could use her break as Father suggested, to get ahead in her books. However, she chooses to look more into what exactly was happening at the time in Hogwarts fifty years ago...

That is unless those stupid oafs fried her brain before she could actually get somewhere.

* * *

Christmas came quickly, and it left Dru no closer to finding out what Father's clue meant. She couldn't find any articles, diaries, records of missing students or serious events that had occurred in Hogwarts fifty years ago. And Father was certainly no help in clarifying what he knew with his letter and gift that morning. Still, Dru persisted, reading further upon it during the Christmas dinner. She sat with Crabbe and Goyle, reading and quietly munching on a spinach roll as the two pigs gorged themselves with sweets.

"Malfoy," Goyle muttered as she chewed a spice cake, the crumbs falling out of his mouth. "Ya fine to stay here for a bit longer by yourself, right?"

Dru rolled her eyes. She flatly said, "Yes, you pigs. Go away now as I need to read."

They shrugged before quickly scurrying off with an armful of sweets in their arms. Honestly, why did Father even bother with protection if the protection couldn't even do that?

Time passed before Dru looked up and realized she was the last one in the Great Hall. She quickly gathered her things, bothered by the eerie quietness. This room was always loud and jolly to Dru; it was uncomfortable to be sitting in such a quiet place. It was unnatural.

She still enjoyed her stroll to the Slytherin common room. It was peaceful, to have time to herself and her thoughts. It left a small smile on her face, her cheeks red from the brisk cold inside the castle. However, it was rudely disrupted when she saw Crabbe and Goyle, blindly wandering the halls. Honestly, she was the one protecting them.

"Crabbe! Goyle!" She barked. The two quickly whipped around, clearly shocked to see the seething girl. While they easily towered over her with their "imposing" figures, she felt that she was a mother admonishing her children for being too slow-witted. "Are you too dense to find your way back to the common room, again?"

They stared at her, mouths gaped.

"Ugh! Why does Father even bother with this supposed 'protection." Wait until he hears about this!" She walked away but soon paused a couple of steps when they weren't following. She glared daggers at the two boys when she looked back at them, their mouths still gaping. "Do I need to spell it out for you? Come on, you imbeciles!"

Soon, they hurriedly followed her, staying quiet as she briskly walked to the Dungeons. She muttered the password to the common room, not bothering to hold the door open for them. She collapsed on her favorite velvet green reading chair, the one closest to the fire. She left her feet to dangle over the armchair, the fire's warmth chasing away the winter's chilly wrath. She pulled her book from supper onto her lap, quickly opening it to return to where she left off. But she didn't get too far as she was displaced by Crabbe and Goyle's uncharacteristic quietness. Why weren't they droning off about stupid things and girls like they normally did?

She stared at Goyle in particular with his rigid back and spectacles. Since when did he have glasses?

"Why are you wearing glasses?" She snipped, slamming her book with a flourish.

He looked dumbfounded. "Oh, uh... reading."

She raised a brow. "Reading?"

He nodded. Crabbe nodded too.

"I didn't know you _could_ read."

She tossed her hair over her shoulder, deeply disturbed by the boys' more than normal stupidity. She shook her head when she saw him take them off, setting them on the table to his left, awkwardly placing his hands in his lap as he stared at her, eyes blinking frequently. Crabbe followed suit. Then, her eyes glanced at a _Daily Prophet_ that another student had brought in, the boys leaving her uncomfortable, especially with Goyle's intense stare. Specifically, Dru focused on the front cover.

"Crabbe, Goyle, look at this." She said, handing the paper over to Crabbe. She missed his immediate scowl as he read the page, too invested in her conclusions from reading it. "It seems that Mr. Weasley was fined after all for bewitching the car, and Father was not too pleased with the punishment. Sadly, his call for the resignation was declined, even after his argument that Mr. Weasley for unfit to draw up wizarding laws if he was too invested in Muggles. I, of course, agree with Father, but it seems no one else recognizes that."

She did, however, catch Crabbe's clenched fist and glare. It seemed that Goyle was holding him back. She ignored that, choosing to continue with more important matters. Pans and Daph weren't here to listen to her theories, so these dim-wits would have to do.

"If anything, the _Daily Prophet_ should be running the attacks at Hogwarts. In fact, there hadn't been any chatter about them... curious. Headmaster Dumbledore is covering up a scandal, no doubt. Not surprising coming from him. Father did always say that Dumbledore was the worst thing to happen to Hogwarts."

"You're wrong!" Goyle snapped, taking up his own scowl.

Dru raised a brow again, unfazed by his uncharacteristic outburst. "What? Do you think there's someone here who's worse than Dumbledore? Well? Do you?"

"... Harry Potter?"

Dru actually snorted at his reply, ignoring how he relaxed back into the chair with Crabbe intently watching him.

"Wow, Goyle, I didn't know you had humor in that head of yours. Sadly, Potter is just moronic and obtuse, along with his friends. Dumbledore, however, is much more clever than that. After all, he was there fifty years ago when the muggle-girl was killed the last time the Chamber of Secrets was open. At least according to Father, but he is almost always never wrong. Hmmm..."

"What, Malfoy?" Crabbed asked, but it was forced through clenched teeth.

She ignored that, too focused on her own self-realization. "Surely, if words get out about these attacks, Headmaster Dumbledore would surely be fired. Father would be pleased, but knowing the inadequate hiring staff as seen with that idiot Lockhart, they would only put in a totally useless and stupid Headmaster in his place. While Dumbledore may be conniving, he is capable of running a school. Still, Father, as an acting school governor, can call for the committee to remove him from his position. Hmmm... If only he hadn't supported muggle-borns being allowed into Hogwarts would Father be happy with him? Of course, I couldn't care because their unworthy of my time, but that Granger girl is clever, to say the least, despite being a muggle-born."

She curiously watched Crabbe almost jump out of his seat, only held back by Goyle. Dru wrinkled her nose in disdain at them, clutching her wand tight in her hand as their antics began to sit unwell with her.

"Honestly! What is wrong with you imbeciles?" She sneered.

"Sorry, just feeling a bit unwell." Goyle muttered in reply, looking down into his lap, holding his head.

"Well, nevermind that. What I'm more curious about is how Potter could possibly be the Heir of Slytherin. First of all, he is too stupid and 'righteous' to even be it, but he would just thrive under the spotlight. But he's only a half-blood, therefore illegible according to Salazar Slytherin's conditions. Hmm, if only I could figure out who they are, and what goal are they trying to reach..."

Suddenly, the two large boys were clutching their mouths and stomachs.

"Where are you two going?" Dru miffed, annoyed that they were so rude and inconsiderate. They were having a conversation! Honestly!

"Don't feel too good...!" Crabbe mumbled before both boys ran out of the room, leaving the girl alone. She rolled her eyes, before stomping up to her room. She didn't need their company. They were far too dull for her.

* * *

As the week past since that weird Christmas night with Goyle and Crabbe, Dru heard rumors that Hermione Granger had been attacked. Dru wasn't sure if she should believe those rumors, but it wouldn't surprise. Granger, like Potter and Weasley, had the tendency to put their noses where they don't belong. Surely one of them would pay the consequences for their constant rule-breaking.

And, if Dru was honest, she counted it as a little victory. Maybe now the boys wouldn't act as haughty as they strutted the corridors. They weren't untouchable; they were too ignorant to see that Wonder Boy's heroism was fading like a fad, just as she suspected it. It put a little bounce in her step as her friends returned from their vacations early to see her. Now, she had no one stopping her from being the top second-year student this year. Father will surely be impressed.

Sadly, the rumors were proven false. Hermione Granger sat in her seat in Potions, happily scribbling notes down in her book as Dru took her seat, glaring daggers at her. Pansy nudged her with her elbow, shaking her head as Dru nodded to the Muggle-born.

"She's not worth it, Dru. Mudblood scum and all. Come on, let's see if Snape will dock points again if she answers too many questions again like the last session." She whispered in her ear before Professor Snape began the class with his sharp voice.

It left Dru giggling and her mood-elevating. Yes, she can still beat those three with the House Cup, and the Quidditch Cup at that. Besides, she wasn't even. witch; Dru could take her, easily. She was a Malfoy and that meant something.

* * *

Soon, more weeks passed as it soon became Valentine's Day. To her utter horror, Professor Lockhart had brought in a dozen dwarfs dressed in cupid costumes. Dread filled her core at the thought of some horrible, horrible person could ever use them to send a valentine-a bloody valentine. The idea of a dwarf, singing and dancing and giving her a silly little card wanted to make her barf. Honestly, how cheesy and cowardly does a wizard or witch have to be to even consider the idea?

She had seen several of the Slytherin boys receive one as a prank from the Weasley twins, something that left her snickering and flinching in embarrassment. She had thought of doing that to Blaise, knowing he would preen like a peacock under the attention, but she decided she was better off not sending any valentines. They were horrible anyway. She liked her friends too much to put them under that kind of torture.

So, to her utter delight, she had found Potter receiving one when he was walking with his chums to Charms. She and Daphne giggled into their sleeves as the boy tried to run away from the dwarf. However, the hallway was too crowded for him to escape the humiliation. The creature tugged him on his bag to stop him. With a loud and dramatic crash, his books and ink spilled to the floor, forcing the boy to stop and collect his positions as the small man sang to him.

Dru eyes caught on a small, black and torn book not too far from her. She reached down to snatch before Potter could, happily realizing the gem she had found.

"Well isn't that just sweet," she cooed as she waved the book out of his grasp. "Little Harry Potter has a little diary!"

The corridor falls quiet as Potter shouted a disarming spell, the book flying from Dru's hands. She frowned when he quickly hurried away, his diary in tow. She pouted, crossing her arms.

"Daphne!" she whined. "I didn't even get to read it!"

Daphne simply shook her head in response as she pulled the girl towards their own class.

"Did you see little Weasley's face?" Daphne asked, nodding to Ginny Weasley. The mousy red-head still looking to where Potter had run off to. "She was shaking in her boots. Most likely out of embarrassment because she had sent Potter the valentine."

That left Dru in even better spirits. "What a pathetic thing to do. I'd feel bad, but if you don't even have the courage to deliver in person, then you shouldn't reap the rewards."

"Sounds like someone is a little sore that no one has sent her a valentine."

Dru rolled her eyes. "Please, Daph. The boy would have to be begging for me to hex him to even do a thing like that. Don't tell me you've received some, you poor thing."

"Well, so what if I did?" Daphne miffed.

"Then I would say those poor bloke's heart would be broken." Dru smiled at her friend, dazzling and real. "But it would mean more chocolate for Pans and me to share!"

Daphne made a noise in disgust. "You and Pans are pigs! I swear!"

And with that Daphne's hostility subsided, Dru noted to herself as she walked with her friend. She didn't know why she had bristled in the first place; she was only teasing her like they always do. Why was this any different? They were just boys.

* * *

As February ended with the winter chill, normalcy returned to Hogwarts as did Spring. Well, as normal as it could be. March was a month spent in apprehension as her friends still researched more about the monster locked in the Chamber of Secrets. They had made no progress in identifying it. They had narrowed it down to a type of snake, or serpent-like creature, but there were too many to consider. The information, while helpful, only created more questions. Soon, Dru and friends soon retired to the idea that the monster may be unknown for now.

In fact, it had been four months since Justin Finch-Fletchley and the ghost had been petrified. It seemed the creature had gone dormant again after the attack of the Gryffindor first-year. It lulled the students into a false sense of security.

However, when Dru received her monthly post from Father and Mother at the beginning of April, she felt the nerves creeping on her again. Normally, she would be ripping the envelope to shreds, devouring Father's advice and Mother's nagging. She savored this small glimpse into her parent's affection, but the calm before the storm worried her more.

She unfurled the parchment paper, reading Father's letter:

_My Dear Daughter Druella,_

_As you have been writing to me this past year at Hogwarts, it appalls me that Headmaster Dumbledore has taken no precautions to ensure the student's safety besides a strict curfew. There have been few rumors circulating the Ministry regarding the Chamber of Secrets, I have decided to take it upon myself to present this case to the Committee of School Governors and call for the removal of Dumbledore as Headmaster._

_I know this will please you and your friends as much as it pleases me._

_Alas, the Dark Lord saw this as an opportunity to remove a large threat of his return, and it will be successful, unlike the beginning of last summer. However, I must urge you to keep this letter's content to your discretion. People will be watching us more than ever once I call this committee. I leave it in your hands to garner your friends and housemates support with this removal. Surely, the apprehension is within most students as I have suspected. Do not disappoint me, Druella. _

_As such, I write this letter to inform you I will be visiting Hogwarts next week, on Thursday. Before my meeting, we will be having a luncheon together. I will wait for you at the southwest corridor's exit leading to the Quidditch Pitch. We will be walking to Hogsmeade at 2 o'clock promptly. Do not be late, Druella. _

—_Your Father_

_Lucius Malfoy_

_Head of Malfoy Manor_

Slowly inhaling, Dru felt a pressure build in her forehead. She sighed, knowing full well what this luncheon will entail. It would most likely be Father talking of what is to come and what her role will be. But, surely Father couldn't be serious? Removing Dumbledore? Who would replace him? Logically, it would be Professor McGonagall as she is next in the chain of command. But, knowing Father, he would have a likely candidate in mind; someone more agreeing with their ideas. Someone who would push the Dark Lord's agenda ahead.

But, what Dru couldn't wrap her head around was how it could be the _Dark Lord's_ plan. He was dead! Harry Potter himself vanquished him so many years ago. What does Father know? What is he keeping from her?

Surely, she will find out at the luncheon. She had questions that needed answers, and she deserved to know the truth.

She unfurled the second scroll of parchment. A letter from Mother that read:

_My Darling Druella,_

_As Valentine's Day passed, I'm sure you received countless valentines from a variety of suitors. However, knowing of your vulgar tendencies to be outright with your..._opinions..._, that would be foolish of your dear mother to think. Still, I hope you had at least begun to distinguish suitable wizards worthy of your hand. You are the sole heir of Malfoy Manor and its fortune, so choose wisely._

_But that is years in the future, my love. I hope your studies are treating you well. As bright as you are, Merlin knows you invest not enough time in your appearance. If it wasn't for Daphne Greengrass, I'm sure you would've turned into a hag by now. I'm simply reminding you dear to care for yourself. A witch must place her best self forward-always._

_Enjoy your luncheon with your father. Treat him well, Druella. He is your father. Wear something suitable, dear. I forbid you from wearing those dreadful school robes. Wear the lovely lavender ones I sent for Christmas. They suit your hair color so nicely. Might I suggest that black hat? The sun would leave your skin awfully red and you'll get wrinkles too early._

_Take care, Druella. _

—_Your Mother_

Dru snorted as she finished reading. Of course, Mother's back-handed compliments will riddle her for the rest of her days. Nothing has changed, but she found her warning, in the beginning, a bit miffy. Honestly, she was only twelve! She did not have time to drool over boys. She needed to demolish Potter at Quidditch and dethrone Granger at academia and just hex Weasley to a pulp.

Still, the luncheon left her wringing her robes as she strolled to classes and to practice. She had so many questions to ask him, but his cold silver eyes scared her away. She didn't want to disappoint him; she needed to make Father proud. And she will happily oblige to that. She will sway her friends and housemates, show them the error in Dumbledore's ways. She will help her father; she will make him proud of her—his daughter, his sole heir, his Druella.

* * *

As Dru signed up for classes next year with Pansy and Daphne the following week, she anticipated for the last Quidditch game of the season: Gryffindor vs Ravenclaw. If Gryffindor were to catch the snitch in this game, then they would beat Slytherin for the Quidditch cup. It left her flittering with excitement. She knew Gryffindor was better than Ravenclaw, but she suspected that Potter would be too bothered with being the "Heir of Slytherin" to play well. In fact, for the past week, she had been dropping subtle reminders to him and his goons.

An occasional comment in Potions, a resurfaced rumor there, and a knowing look from across the corridor left Potter red and furious. He was obviously upset at the connection of his precious name tied to the cause of the petrification of students. His poor image and ego suffered serious blows, and it left Dru ravishing in it with a delighted giggle.

However, that would soon come to an end with the abrupt cancellation the morning of the match and Father's visit.

"What do you think Professor McGonagall is saying?" Pansy whispered to the Dru, Daphne, Blaise, and Theo. "Was there another attack?"

"Most likely, Pans," Theo muttered, standing up to leave. The others followed suit, gossiping on who was most likely it.

"Hopefully it's Granger. Maybe she'll learn not to stick where her nose doesn't belong." Dru said.

"Dru!" Daphne gasped. "Don't say things like that!"

"Come off it, Daphne," Blaise said, rolling his eyes. "She had been worse lately with the resurfacing of the Heir of Slytherin rumors. She even sees a hint of green and she's glares and hexes you without a second thought."

"Yeah, she's a miffy knob," Pansy growled, clinging to Dru and Theo as they walked down the precarious steps. "She deserves whatever is coming to her for hurting my friends."

As they headed back to the castle towards the Black Lake to enjoy an afternoon in the sun, Dru excused herself. "I need to excuse myself to the dorms. Father is coming today, and he will surely know who was the latest victim. I will tell you all tonight, I swear!"

And with that, Dru ran off, leaving her friends.

* * *

As she sat down with Father at the Hog's Head Pub, she couldn't help her anxiety grow at the sight of his scowled face. However, she remedied to herself that he _always_ had that look was on his face; he was always bothered by something, whether it be what Mr. Weasley had said at the Ministry, the Muggle Protection Act, his ego wounded, etc. etc. She would like to think she could read whatever Father was trying to say with just expressions, but she's not like Mother. She didn't have an idea of what kind of mood he was in, seeing as how he was silent their whole walk to Hogsmeade. And that left her nerves more in a jumble than she had hoped. However, she would like to think her neutral face gave no inkling of the emotional turmoil budding inside of her.

"Tell me, Druella," He began, resting his cup of tea. _He knows, of course, he knows_, she thought to herself. "How have you been faring at Hogwarts with this creature loose about the castle? I trust your academia and extracurriculars have not been slipping."

Drew gave a curt nod, staring into his eyes. "Of course, Father. As of now, I am first in my year, and Slytherin is in the lead of winning both the House and Quidditch Cup. However, I fear with the last cancellation of the last Quidditch match, they may pervert the scoring or call an inconclusive year for the cup. Still, it's promising that Slytherin will win the House Cup."

Lucius nodded, cooly staring at his daughter. His fist clenched tighter on the silver serpent's head on his staff. "Yes, the last match was canceled because of the latest attack, so I have heard."

Dru's perked up in interest. "Father, do you know who was attacked?"

"Yes, Druella. I do." He answered, leaning heavily on his metal staff. He was drawing out his answer; Dru knew this. He wanted to see how she would react, what she would anticipate. _I know them_, she noted to herself. _He's testing me_. Dru didn't say another word, sipping her lavender tea. She waited.

Finally, Father gave in. "It was the Mudbloods Hermione Granger and Penelope Clearwater, both in your class I presume."

Dru nodded, a sudden twist in her stomach leaving her feeling sick. She didn't know what to feel. It was a shock. Not even hours ago, she had been hoping it would be that muggle-born. But now...

He continued, "They were attacked the evening before, but only found this morning. According to Professor McGonagall, there will be a stricter curfew in place along with teachers escorting students to and fro classes. She even postulated as much that the culprit, if not found by the end of the school year, would force the school to close."

Dru's eyes widen in surprise. She had concluded that Dumbledore would be replaced, but the school closing? Permanently?

"But, Father, if the creature is only attacking Muggle-borns, then wouldn't I be safe?"

"My thoughts exactly, my dear. However, Cornelius wishes to not take further chances. He is worried about his image being ruined with these attacks, seeing as how the Minister of Magic should be well aware of this acts. In fact, he and I will be visiting Dumbledore today to further discuss what actions must be taken for the safety of the students. There has been a suspect identified, and we will be interrogating him today."

"A, a suspect?" Dru blanched. "Who is it?"

"Rubeus Hagrid, that dreadful half-breed."

"Why, why do you suspect it's him, Father?"

"Well, Druella," He tapped his cane on the floor, his cold eyes unblinking. "He was a student at the time when the Chamber first opened. He was accused then and promptly expelled. The attacks stopped shortly thereafter. So, Cornelius and I believe that he had opened the Chamber again out of revenge for being expelled..."

"But, but Father... I thought only a pure-blood could open the Chamber of Secrets-the Heir of Slytherin."

Lucius's face contorted into a sly smirk before he leaned forward. "Druella, I'd advise being careful of what words you say in a public setting. You never know who is listening." He stood up abruptly. "In fact, I believe we shall take our leave."

Dru hurriedly followed after him, her eyes bulging at her realizations: Father was framing the half-giant, the monster would still be active, and Hogwarts would be closed-permanently.

As they walked together, Dru couldn't help her questions bubbling out.

"Father, who is the Heir of Slytherin, then?"

"I would like to remind you to mind your tone, Druella." He barked.

Dru hung her head in shame. "My apologies, Father."

Lucius sighed, his exasperation leaving Dru shaking in fear. "Very well then. You were correct in your conclusions, Druella. And for that, I am very impressed. Yet, you fail to think outside of the box. You see, what makes the Heir of Slytherin, well, _the Heir of Slytherin_ is not the title, but the abilities implicated from such title."

"Parseltongue..."

"Precisely. So, theoretically, any pureblood who could recite or speak parseltongue could be the Heir of Slytherin, therefore open the Chamber of Secrets. However, it's more poignant to choose the _right_ pureblood."

Dru looked back at her father. His stride was measured-phlegmatic as ever, always several steps of others. He was dangerous, Dru suddenly realized as she took in Father's demeanor. It was an abrupt realization, no doubt, but she knew it was always understood in her subconscious and how she acted around him. It was always there, but Dru finally grew up to accept its truth from his actions these past two years, especially of this past school year.

This _Chamber of Secrets_... Dru knew deep in her heart that Father had been the one to orchestrate it. From the supposed diary from last summer to Dobby's warning to his letters... He was behind all of this. He was responsible for creating the new heir. He, by extent, opened the Chambers, therefore, he was the reason why Hogwarts was closing. It left Dru furious but deeply terrified. Just who was this man-her father or a dangerous man? Could he ever be the same? Could Dru ever see her father as someone she could family or someone who should not be named?

"I am rather surprised you have not drawn conclusions on who I had picked." Lucius surmised, showing no inclinations to her internal turmoil, still looking towards the approaching castle. Dru didn't know whether he knew, or was hiding that he knew that she knew, or was testing her. She couldn't read her father anymore. Dru ignored the sudden thought that she probably never knew to understand her father. "I thought you more clever, Druella."

Dru bit her tongue, refusing to answer. She didn't know what to do. Dru never knew what _not _to do. This sense of hopeless was too much; Dru felt her chest compress so, so tightly together. She couldn't breathe, much less speak.

He sighed when Dru remained silent. _He sees me as weak, as a stupid, privileged girl... _"I see... Very well, Druella, worry not about Hogwarts closing as I am sure you and you're friends will either take to homeschooling or seek to join another school. I have always had my sights on Durmstrang."

"Father..." Dru hesitantly said, the words tumbling out. She was curling her fingers into her palm, the pressuring of pushing her nails into the palm comforting her; her chest expanded. "Will, will we be alright if Minister Fudge or Dumbledore were to suspect-"

"And why would they suspect, Dru?" Lucius briskly said, his words cold and unforgiving. "I would have thought you of all people, my only daughter, would have faith in me and my decisions."

"My apologies for doubting you, Father."

Lucius and Druella stopped in front of the southwest corridor entrance. Lucius turned to her. "As to answer your question, no, I am not worried. Take solace in that, Druella. Perhaps in the future, you will realize how silly it is to question your father and his decisions, especially when they concern our Dark Lord. Family first, my daughter, always. Take care with your studies; I suspect with the removal of the Mudblood, you will retain your academic position this year, unlike last year. Goodbye, Druella."

And with a flourish of his cape, he left Druella to meet with Headmaster Dumbledore, leaving her with a growing knot of fear in her chest.

* * *

"So..." Pansy drawled, her legs kicking as she sprawled over her four-poster bed. "How was lunch with Daddy?"

Dru ignored her, choosing to focus all of her attention on brushing her hair.

Pansy sighed. "Come on, Dru! Tell us! Don't tell me it was _that_ dreadful? Was he being a bloody wanker again?"

"Pansy!" Daphne hissed. She took her place beside Dru, squeezing the girl's hand. "You don't have to hold back, Dru. You can tell us."

Dru softly set her ornate hairbrush down-a gift from Father, ironically. She was sitting on her trunk, her velvet emerald pillows cushioning her. Slowly, she faced Pansy and Daphne. Both of her friends stared at her, watching. That's something Dru noticed; they were always watching her, looking out for her well-being. She really didn't deserve them. They were too good for her sometimes.

"He..." Dru started, but the words couldn't come out. They wouldn't. Her mouth was dry and her voice sounded strangled and raspy. She felt a tear fall from her eye-only a single tear.

"Oh, Dru!" Pansy cried, dashing over to her friend. She held onto her tight, squeezing with surprising strength. "Did he say something about you? About us?" She wrinkled her nose. "About Potter?"

Dru giggled, but it sounded more like a hiccup. She shook her head.

"Well, take your time, love. " Daphne cooed, pinching her cheek like Mother did when she was little. "We'll be here. In the meantime, do you think with the cancellation of the last game, that there will be no Quidditch Cup awarded then?"

"What! No way, Daph!" Pansy shrieked, jumping off the bed to jump into her disarrayed covers. On her second bound, she continued. "They'll probably disregard the last match between Slytherin and Hufflepuff to make it fair, ya know?"

Dru furrowed her brow at the thought. If they did that, then Gryffindor would win, and she didn't need that disappointment. All of this pressure from Father was crushing her; she didn't know what she would do when he would find out about that. She couldn't face him again as she had at the end of last year. His disgust was in his narrowing eyes throughout the month of June. It only settled when something "promising" happened with a meeting.

"Pansy, please." Daphne scoffed. "It would just be better to not have a winner this year, with all of the attacks. Better to focus on completing the academic year, as well as studying for the final exams. Have you started researching your final essay for Potions, Dru?"

Dru nodded, still staring at her hairbrush. _Father will be so upset with me. I'm his daughter; I'm his only heir. How could I have let him down like this? How could I be so stupid!_

Dru was ignorant of the meaningful glances spared between Daphne and Pansy.

"That's it!" Pansy abruptly said, her brown eyes furious. Stomping her way over, she yanked Dru off the trunk and towards the door.

"What, what, what are you doing, Pansy!" She shrieked, embarrassed as she was forced up the stairs towards the common room. She was in her pajamas!

"We're going to the kitchens to ask the elves to whip us up some sweets. You need to stop mulling over what your dad said and focus on us. We'll cheer you up. Don't you worry that pretty face of yours!"

"Daphne!" Dru looked to her sensible friend.

"Don't Daphne me, love. Pansy is right... for once. You need a distraction. So hush up and walk faster or else the boys' will tease."

And with that her friends sneaked to the kitchens, barely avoiding the Prefects on patrol and Professor Flitwick perusing the grounds. Giggling to themselves, Dru felt this weight alleviate from her shoulds. She didn't feel as compressed in the chest; everything was loosening up. She was loosening up. Father's words and implications seemed farther away and less overwhelming.

She would enjoy her time with her friends while she could, she decided. She would spare them the knowledge that Hogwarts will be closing, and that she would never see them again like this. She could suffer through carrying this burden on her shoulders. For their sake, of course.

And for the first time in her life, Dru hoped that Father was wrong.

* * *

But of course, she was wrong.

The news of Dumbledore's departure left everyone more frightened. Without the protections of one of the most powerful wizards of their time, Hogwarts felt smaller and unfamiliar. It was as if all the warmth and happiness had flown the castle. The air was heavy with rumors and hysteria again, turning the school into a cold and desolate place. It left Dru worrying her lip and digging her nails into her palm more these days. In fact, Dru only found solace when she was with her friends or submerging herself into her studies.

She never spared a hateful glare towards Potter or Weasel. She had too much on her plate to stand the sight of their wounded puppy eyes with their Granger in the Hospital Wing. However, it didn't stop her hateful words in Potions.

She didn't know what overcame at that moment. She was just so angry at Father, at Dumbledore, at Potter and at herself. It felt good at the time when she said, but as she laid in her bed, having declared too sick to sit for the rest of the evening meal, she mulled over her harsh words.

_"Hopefully, they'll put in a new Headmaster who actually can protect their students, that is if the school if there is still a school left standing. Those stupid Mudbloods just had to go to a school here! I hope they would all leave so that we can still go to school here, or get petrified at least..."_

She had lost Slytherin twenty points for talking during class and was asked to leave immediately. She had ignored her friend's baffled looks and the Gryffindors spiteful glares. Potter's alone was terrifying to behold, leaving her shivering in fear.

She knew now she hadn't meant any of those words, but her feelings hadn't changed. Dru did blame the Muggle-borns, but just as much as the pure-bloods and Father and Dumbledore and the Heir of Slytherin. Her second home was being stolen from her, and she was powerless to prevent it.

Still, she felt no remorse for her words, because Malfoys haven't the time to mull over past mistakes. There was no reason for regret, as the past cannot be changed. If anything, Dru knew Potter and Weasley will forget about her words, being too busy with their fretting and worrying over Quidditch and final exams. They probably haven't looked back to that day in class, too busy sobbing over Ganger-"How are we supposed to pass our exams now?!" The thought made Dru roll her eyes.

Surely nothing else would happen now, being so close to the end of classes. Surely Father will realize that he accomplished his task of removing Dumbledore and closing Hogwarts. Maybe things will finally settle down, and Dru could study in peace.

* * *

But it appeared Father had different plans.

Ginny Weasley had been kidnapped, taken to the Chamber of Secrets. She learned this Professor Snape as he addressed the Slytherin house. Everyone was to pack _immediately_ that night and prepare to board _The Hogwarts Express_ in the late morn. No students were to leave the dormitories for any reason. Any students who did not follow according to these instructions would face harsh punishment, but that left Dru snorting in annoyance.

Her worst fears had come to light: Hogwarts was closing. So what could those professors do anyways if they were caught? Come tomorrow morning's light, they would no longer be their professors. They had no power, much like how Dru felt in this moment.

Never before had she hated Father. He was this powerful man in her eyes. Wise and all-seeing, he always seemed to know what to do. He did no wrong, only what was necessary. She saw him as the tall and imposing man who brought Mother flowers every Sunday morning for her small private reading room. He was the man that taught her strategy, wizard's chess, and Quidditch. He was the man that she boasted to her friends, professors, and even to Potter.

He was the man who kept her, despite the fact she was a girl and Mother couldn't bore any more heirs after to her due to complications after her birth. He was her father; she loved him, with all of her being.

But now, he was the man that took away the people she cared most about in the world after her family, of course; family first, always. He was the villain. He did a wrong that Dru couldn't forgive. She would never see her friends again after tomorrow morning. Maybe she could convince for a "shopping spree" with Daphne, or an outing with Pansy, but she didn't have high hopes in that. Father wouldn't allow it. He didn't enjoy the idea of her being too far out of his watchful eye.

As she slept that night, it was the first time she wished ill on her father-"I want Father's plan to fail. I want him to fail by Merlin's will."

And, it seemed that her wish came true that following morning.

The teachers addressed all the students, with Dumbledore gripping his podium tightly. Again, tremendous acts of courage, bravery, and valor would need to be recognized and awarded. Dumbledore gestured to the smiling Harry Potter and smug Ronald Weasley who were sitting at their table.

"Mr. Harry Potter and Mr. Ronald Weasley have displayed great tenacity and valor when they rescued Ms. Ginerva Weasley from the Chamber of Secrets. In doing so, they have closed the Chamber of Secrets, sparing Hogwarts from a far greater travesty: closing our doors forever. As such, these acts must be rewarded for their fortitude. Two hundred points will be awarded to Gryffindor for these acts, as long with a Special Awards for Services to the School. As such, I have much brighter news. Due to these trying months at Hogwarts, Professor Minerva and I have agreed to cancel all final exams. I wish you the best of these last few weeks at Hogwarts. Classes will resume as of this Thursday with assignments to be completed in order to conclude this year. That is all."

Dru was left shocked as her friends cheered. Father's plans failed. Hogwarts will be here, waiting for her come this Fall.

Slowly, a smile grew upon her lips. A real smile.

Her friends will stay with her, and that was all she could hope for.

Maybe her luck was beginning to turn around-no thanks to Harry Potter.

* * *

The following few weeks of classes that remained were peaceful. It was as if a heavy pressure had been lifted from the students and professors. She could see it in how the Slytherin first years no longer walked to class in packs. It left Dru giggling when she saw a few running late to class, or small girl lounging in the Quad, enjoying the warmth. The glares were less harsh and common. Sure, the Weasleys always saved a snarl whenever she strutted by; Dru always made sure to roll her eyes at them, flip her hair over her shoulder and look the other way. She had far more important things to worry over then red-heads getting flustered.

She and her friends made the most of these precious weeks. They were always together, walking to class, laying out in the grass near the Black Lake, borrowing a few brooms for a scrimmage, or teasing each other in the common room, late in the night. She learned that Blaise could speak French and Italian, like Daphne. Theo enjoyed hiking the small mountains behind his estate. Daphne preferred summer over any season any day of the year, and Pansy had a secret love for romance novels. She and her friends grew closer in those weeks then they had the whole year, albeit the girls and her. They were always close-will always be close.

She hadn't heard from Father at all those weeks as well. It seemed he was too bitter with his defeat to bother with her. Dru didn't mind one bit. She actually preferred it that way, as she still didn't know where she stood with Father.

But she would worry about that tomorrow after she came back home to Malfoy Manor for the summer.

Until then, she was to enjoy the celebration tonight. Sure, Slytherin lost the House Cup yet again to Gryffindor. And, well, even been petrified for weeks didn't stop Hermione Granger to furiously catch up on all of her assignments and essays, placing her yet again on the top of the second-year list. And, well, no one won the Quidditch Cup that year. And she had, technically according to Blaise and Theo, had lost the duel with Potter.

In fact, this whole year Potter and his friends had bested her time and time again. But Dru couldn't find within herself to care as much anymore. She was too happy to have her friends and her Hogwarts back.

She didn't even spare him a glance during the feast, or on the train ride home.

* * *

Father was absent from Malfoy Manor when she returned. Mother was there, happily crying to have her Druella returned safely home-"Druella! You haven't the slightest clue of how worried I was about you. What if the creature accidentally petrified you? Think of the wrinkles and dry skin for weeks after!" It left Dru grimacing rather than smiling, overwhelmed by Mother's perfume. Still, she enjoyed seeing her; she didn't even realize how much she had missed her, having not seen her since she had departed for Hogwarts.

"Where is Father exactly?" She asked her in the reading room, sipping her lavender tea. Poised and graceful, she hoped. Her fingers were gripping the precious teacup a little too tight.

Her mother pursed her lips. "After your father was removed as a school governor for his..._unfavorable_ actions this past year, he had to return to the Ministry to try and salvage his case for the removal of the Muggle Protection Act. Sadly, his case was dismissed base on the grounds of his credibility. Since then, he has been working rather late in efforts to keep his high standing in the Ministry." Narcissa noticed the worried lip Dru was chewing, before continuing. "Oh! Druella, you mustn't worry about your father. He is an intelligent and resourceful man. Cornelius knows this and how foolish it would be to not have him on his favorable side. Please spare your poor lips from your worrying."

Dru slowly nodded, flushing. "Of course, Mother. Do you know when he will be back?"

"He said he had a dinner meeting scheduled tonight, so he will be back after you have retired for the night. However, he should be here in the early morning. See to him then, Druella."

"Yes, Mother."

And the women were left in silence, each consumed by their own thoughts and their hot tea.

Later that night, Dru couldn't find herself relaxing, let alone sleeping. She had been pacing her room, a tight expression on her face. She didn't know how to speak to Father when she sees him in the morning. Did she ask him outright what happened? Did she play the part of the perfect daughter, soothing him over his plans failing? Would he even want to see her? Would he be furious? Should she be scared?

Dru snarled at the last thought. Scared? Of her own _father?_ Ugh! She was not a wimpy child. She was almost thirteen! She was practically a woman, and therefore shouldn't worry like a petulant toddler. Why was so so wrung up on this in the first place? She will know eventually what happened. She just needed another cup of tea to calm her nerves. And maybe a late-night snack to settle her stomach.

"Dobby!"

Silence. Dru looked around, wondering where the elf was.

"Dobby!"

Again, no answer.

Dru began to pace again. What happened to her favorite house-elf? The elf who knew how to make her tea, the one who always left her socks warm during the cold winters at Malfoy Manor, the one who expressed his undying loyalty to her just the summer before. What had happened to him?

And this, this pushed Dru through her bedroom doors in the west wing of the manor. Furious and determined, she walked towards Father's study.

She saw the light underneath the door and knocked three times.

"Yes, Druella. Come in."

She pushed open the door to see her father sorting through a large array of documents. His reading spectacles were on, as long with a half-full goblet of wine resting in front of him. He looked so tired, she realized to herself. His eyes were half-lidded and his skin was paler than usual. Still, his cold demeanor froze Dru in her place.

"My dear daughter, what has brought you here at such late hours? I had assumed I would see you in the morning, as your mother told me."

"Where's Dobby?" She blurted out.

Father tensed. Pinching his nose, he took off his spectacles, staring at Dru. "He has been... removed from his post as house-elf."

"Why?" Dru asked.

"You can thank Mr. Harry Potter for that. He had assumed that the stupid elf would better serve him than us."

Dru felt her anger rise, leave her inhibitions smothered by its roaring fury. "What, exactly, happened after Ginny Weasley was taken to the Chamber of Secrets?"

"And why would I waste my precious time explaining myself to you, Druella?" He sneered, slamming his hand on the desk. "I thought I had thoroughly explained your position as my daughter, Druella. You are not one to question me, but to offer support. So, again I ask, on what grounds must you pester me this night?"

"Father!" Dru snapped, "Just tell me what's going on! I am not just some pathetic, spineless child! So what if I am only your _daughter_? If anything, that implicates that I am one of the only people you can trust, besides Mother. As such, I deserve to know what's happening. it happened at Hogwarts! I almost lost my friends! Father, just tell me!"

"Druella Lucia!" Lucius roared, standing up suddenly. His voice was so cold, so sharp. It truly terrified Dru, but she was too angry to back down. She needed to know. She deserved to know. What was the harm of being honest? What was he hiding from her? "Never in my years have I seen such disobedience from you. You claim you are not a child, but here you are before me, whining as one!"

"Father—!"

"Silence." He held his hand, inhaling deeply before he answered again. "Despite how much I wish to punish you for this childish display, I find myself too tired to argue. Sit."

Dru blinked, surprised that her rant worked. She was expecting banishment to her room for a month. Was Father sick? What was happening to him to cause him to act so tired? She quickly sat in the chair, waiting for him to speak again.

Another deep breath. "Druella, as you know, Ginerva Weasley, the daughter of that traitorous and piggish Arthur, was kidnapped and taken to the Chamber of Secret. What you have not deduced, to my surprise, was that she was not in fact kidnapped."

Dru blanched.

"Yes, she was the Heir of Slytherin. She had gone to the Chamber to finish the task that the Dark Lord had placed upon her. However, it seemed that Mr. Potter and that girl's brother thought to themselves that should play in the heroics. Of course, they saved her but stopping the Dark Lord's plans in the process. As such, they foiled the plot to displace the blame unto Ms. Weasley. Dumbledore, it seems, wasn't as old and blind as I had hoped. He saw through my ploy and warned Cornelius as such. Of course, Minister Fudge is too afraid to even mutter the Dark Lord's name, so he had left me alone for the most part. Still, I have been removed from the school governor's position, and the Muggle Protection Act will be passed, but I will keep my position in the Ministry."

Dru nodded, curling her nails into her palm and squeezing too tight.

"You shouldn't worry about me so much, my dear," Lucius said, leaning back into his leather chair. He brought the goblet of wine to his lips, downing the pungent liquid a bit too fast for Dru's liking. He sighed again before further addressing Dru. "However, I find it within my relaxed state to address several things that will be changing from now on. First, many will make blasphemous claims to our family, as you may recall with the Weasleys when we shopped for your supplies last year. Pay no heed to their lies. You must not waste your breath for their kind; they're beneath us all."

"Believe me, Father, I have kept to this while at school," Dru muttered, sneering at the thought of the Gryffindorks calling her names.

"Please do not interrupt me, Druella."

"Of course. Sorry, Father."

"As I was saying, there is something else you must be made aware of. In these upcoming years, certain events must take place for our Dark Lord's reappearance. I just ask for your loyalty and support, my daughter. Remember where your true loyalties lie—with family, always. Others may try to convince you otherwise, but remember what is the truth and what is false. You are my daughter, and I will not expect anything less, yes?"

"Of course, Father. Family first, always."

"Good. Now, Druella, please leave your father be. I have many documents to consult before I can retire for the night."

"Goodnight, Father."

And with that, Dru quietly closed the door, all too happy and smug to have her answers. Most she had suspected, but she was still surprised to find that Potter was the reason why she lost Dobby. In fact, it made her all the more infuriated.

He had managed to take more of her well-earned rewards this year. The House and Quidditch Cup, the spotlight, and now her house-elf. How could he still be besting her, even now when she is the solace of her home? It left Dru all the more motivated to destroy the boy. And now, she had the summer to plan exactly what to do.

While this left Dru in high spirits, she couldn't shake the nervousness she felt after Father's still vague answers. What events? What else was happening? What was to come? Should she be fearful, worried even?

Suddenly, Dru stopped herself. _No, __I need to trust Father. As he said, family first, always. I shouldn't let it worry me, because Father will protect me. I am fine. I am fine._ She became more resolute in her words as she repeated them. They were her new mantra; she found peace in their meaning. She was safe; she was fine. She trusted Father, loved him. So why would he lie to her?

Yes, she loved Father and hated Harry Potter. Why would she ever question herself? Besides, she had tomorrow to look forward to; she was talking to her broom again for the first time in weeks. She was looking forward to the joy and peace.

So why should even bother another thought towards Potter?

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**First, I would like to apologize for the overdue update. I had the first draft finished around the beginning of July, but after rereading it, I felt as though it was wrong. The first draft was a bit too far-fetched for Dru's character, so I had to cut about 10k+ words out and rewrite it. I'm more pleased with this version but might make more tweaks in the future.**

**I really wanted to delve more into Dru's relationship with her father and mother in this part. I felt that was never really fleshed out in the books or films, so I took it upon myself to really empathize its toxicity and mistrust. I think that Dru is beginning to realize that not everything her father does is in her best interest, but she still clings to the naive hope that he always placed her first. That will further be explored in the third part, where we will tackle the third book (which is by far my favorite!). **

**Also, I love how sassy Dru is coming along, especially with the Christmas scene with disguised Potter and Weasley. **

**Another thing I would like to note is her view on muggle-borns, specifically Hermione. I find that Dru is much more subtle in her prejudice compared to the likes of Crabbe and Goyle. She has taken cues from her father mostly, choosing well-timed one-liners and sarcasm as a method to degrade rather than resorting to vulgarity like how Pansy does. Also, I would like to think that Dru has some respect for Granger. Despite how disadvantaged she is—being a muggle-born, being unliked, and being a woman—she still manages to out best them all, including Dru. While it does infuriate her, Dru can't help but acknowledge her capabilities, unlike Harry and Ron. **

**In the next part, I'll be focusing on the more social side of being a pureblood, including arranged marriages. Another thing I would like to focus on Dru's growing sense of mistrust in others, especially her family and friends. She will most definitely see her friends grow more in a romantic capacity, while she will be lacking behind. Still, they will barely be thirteen and fourteen, so they can't be _too_ cozy for each other. (That's later on ;))**

**Finally, updating from here will be more irregular as I'm restarting college come this August. Still, I will try to post part three before October!**

**Again, thank you for your kind words and support. Until next time! **

**xx maurik**


	3. Part Three: The Third Year

**AU. Druella Malfoy had always thought herself as someone who was always several steps ahead of others. She was a Malfoy: cunning, ruthless, and cold-blooded. Yet, coming into her third year at Hogwarts, Dru had never been more lost. Furthermore, a murderer had escaped Azkaban, haunting the Hogwarts grounds to sink his claws on The Boy Who Lived. All Dru wanted this year was time with her friends and some sense of normalcy after last year's terror, but it seemed she would instead find a new friend; if only he wasn't as daft as he was reckless.**

**[Fem!Draco/Harry]**

**Part III: The Third Year**

* * *

Druella Malfoy was as unusual as a thirteen-year-old girl could be: she despised the summer holiday, desperately wanted to finish her summer assignments and was the only heiress of The Most Noble and Ancient House of Malfoy.

As she sat in her room, furiously writing away her Transfiguration essay, Dru realized that today was her birthday—June 5th, just past midnight. Her quill stilled. Dru let out a wry laugh at the realization. Last summer, she was practically skipping the halls of Malfoy Manor singing to Mother and Dobby that she wanted sticky toffee pudding as her birthday treat, instead of the usual treacle tart. Yet, here she was, Mother slumbering away and Dobby gone, writing an essay.

She sighed as she put her quill to parchment again, willing away the ridiculous thoughts. The writing was a better use of her time than thinking of things as pointless as that. So what if Dobby was released of his services because Potter wanted to play the hero? So what if Father would be out of the country for Ministry dealings, yet again, for her birthday? Dru could not waste precious time fretting over these trivial things.

A tear fell on the paper, the beautiful ink raising to meet and swirl in the liquid. The essay bled. When did she start to cry?

Patting her eyes with her sleeve, Dru abruptly stood up. Her emerald-green satin chair harshly skidded over the deep, dark walnut flooring. She let out an irritated huff as she paced in her room.

"Ugh! Why am I being so emotional over something as stupid as Father and Dobby being gone? Father already sent a letter and a gift, and Dobby...Merlin, why should I care about a stupid house-elf?!"

Dru looked at the jade and silver hairpiece laying on her desk. It was beautifully crafted. A small, delicate serpent wrapped itself around the top of the comb, weaving in and out of the prongs. The whole body was a bright jade. Flowers surrounded the serpent, polished silver with small emerald petals. It was Father's gift, claiming a piece as beautiful as this belonged to someone as equally beautiful. A peace offering no doubt.

Letting out her breath—a breath she didn't even realize she was holding—she gently held it in her palm. Closing her eyes, she sighed deeply. Inhale through the nose, exhale through the mouth.t

As Dru calmed the rising hysteria, she felt her tiredness slowly seep in. It left her with heavy-lidded eyes and slow thoughts—a slow lull revibrated through her. She placed the gift on her desk again. Dru decided she would wear it later that day, during her birthday party. Then, Father wouldn't be gone; it was a gift no doubt.

* * *

"Druella! Your guests are here!" Dru's mother's voice trilled, a gracious smile wavering as she inspected the four guests.

"Dru!" Pansy shrieked, running past the Narcissa Malfoy to the girl who appeared in the drawing-room. She shoved herself unto the girl, clinging tightly as she kept screaming in joy. "Dru! I thought you were dead since you never wrote back!"

"Honestly, Pansy," Daphne drawled, apologizing to Narcissa profusely before gliding over to the two girls. Theo and Blaise awkwardly trolled behind, avoiding the disdainful stare at Theo's unkempt appearance. "It's only been a week at most. Stop harassing the poor girl."

"Daphne!" Dru giggled, breaking free from Pans and running into the older girl's arms. Daphne's eyes softened as she hugged her friend back—tighter when Dru tried to pull away. Dru quickly turned to Theo and Blaise. "Don't think I forgot about you two!"

"Dru! Please," Blaise balked when she hugged him in greeting. "This is Prada."

"Codswallop." She huffed under her breath as she gave Theo a hug, who awkwardly patted her back in return.

Smiling at the sight of her four friends, she quickly glanced back at her mother, who was shaking her head in disapproval for her lack of decorum. Dru couldn't give a rat's arse about that, too happy to see her friends again. Let her have her joy for this day!

"If you will excuse us Mother, we will be heading out for a scrimmage. Send Spiffy when you need us!"

She grabbed the girls' hands and pulled them out of the drawing-room, making heave towards the large green lawn beyond the gardens. The girls giggled as they gossiped over what they had missed since they've been apart for a week.

"It's weird, ya know," Pansy said, inspecting the broom Dru handed to her. She lifted her leg over it. "I mean, normally we celebrate with pastries we sneak from the kitchen at Hogwarts, but with the whole Chamber debacle, I can see why we were able to be let earlier than normal."

"I don't mind that much." Theo shrugged, already lazily flying through the air. "Gives me the chance to finally score up on Dru, yeah?"

"You wish, Nott." Dru retorted, gracefully flying patterns through the air. Her fingers were itching to start the match. "With Blaise on your team, I would hardly think you stand a chance."

"Just because I care for my appearance doesn't mean I don't mind playing dirty, Malfoy," Blaise growled, shakily halting to a stop in front of Dru.

"I couldn't care much for the game," Daphne called from below, lounging in a cot as she read through a Witch Weekly magazine. "I'll keep score, I suppose."

"Call it Dru!" Pansy called, readying herself behind her.

Dru and Blaise glared at each other as Theo flipped a coin.

"Heads."

"It's tails. Your call, Blaise."

Blaise smirked. "We'll start with the quaffle. Just because it's your birthday doesn't mean I'll go easy on you, Dru."

"Are you sure you don't mind a little dirt on your Prada?"

"Hush up you two and just start!" Daphne shrilled, throwing the quaffle up in the air.

They all dove for it.

* * *

"Better put some ice that ya, because we smoked your sorry arses!" Pansy sneered, bumping hips with Dru as they funneled back into the Manor.

"Watch your profanity, Pansy."

"Ugh! C'mon on Daph! Just take the stick in your arse out for one day, yeah?" Theo sneered before yelping when Blaise punched his shoulder. "Ah! Mate, I thought we were on the same team?"

"Doesn't mean you get to go back to the Medieval times with your stupid comebacks. Honestly, shape up."

"Ugh, shut it!" Dru snapped, grouchy and exhausted. "Look for some snacks."

"Miss!" A shaky and squeaky voice called. Dru looked down at the new house-elf, Spiffy. "Spiffy would love to brings Misses and guests some snacks, miss."

"Yes, and find us some refreshments too!" Dru said, nodding to the elf. With a snap, Spiffy blinked away.

"What happened to the other one?" Pansy asked, collapsing on a long, leather couch. "Dobby, right?"

Dru tensed. "Oh, um, we had to let him go due to...unforeseen circumstances..."

"What a bunch of dodgy piss," Theo grumbled, sitting on a chair across from Pansy. "Come off it and spill, Malfoy."

"Theodore!" Daphne hissed.

"Don't 'Theodore' me!" Theo replied, scrunching up his nose. "Only me ma gets to call me that, yeah?"

"I couldn't care much for that," Blaise said, lounging on the satin chair. "What I would love to know is why daddy dearest is no longer a school governor?"

"Blaise!" Daphne smacked him on the head with her magazine. Pansy soon followed with a cuff to Theo's head.

"Hey!"

"Merlin!"

"It's her birthday, you dolts." Pansy seethed. "What's with the interrogation?"

"It's fine, Pans," Dru quietly muttered, glaring at the boys. "They're just sore about us winning the game."

Blaise rolled his eyes. "We are just curious, as friends, as to why these important events occur and you, yet again, leave us out of the loop."

"I didn't realize I had to spill every detail of my private life to you!" Dru replied, her face fuming.

"Well, that's what real friends do, Dru!"

"Real friends wouldn't attack their friends like this, especially on their birthdays!"

"Come off it, _Principessa_." Blaise huffed.

"Alright! That's enough!" Daphne barked. Everyone grew silent. "Dru, we love you dear, but you need to be more forthcoming about your problems with us, alright? And boys!" Pansy snickered when Theo visibly gulped, his face drawing a sickly pale color. "What's with you being gits, today of all days. Who knows how long we'll get to see each other like this until term starts again? Honestly, play nice or I'll sick Pansy on you!"

"Hey!"

"Ugh, Pansy, dear, it's not like you don't attack people like some rabid dog when you hex people."

"_Hey!_"

"Sorry, Dru," Blaise grumbled, his dark eyes flashing. Theo murmured in agreement.

Dru rolled her eyes, smiling. It will do for now. "Yeah, yeah, you dolts. Now come on, I'm sure Spiffy is done by now with the treats."

"Dibbs on the first pick!"

"Pansy!"

"What? I'm a growing girl..."

Despite the tension from the unfinished argument between the boys and Dru, they somehow managed to have a pleasant birthday dinner. With Daphne hounding other the boys' manners with her well-timed quips, and Pansy being Pansy, Dru had never laughed so much before at her own home. It felt good. It felt like she was a thirteen-year-old girl now; it felt normal.

She tried to keep her spirits up when the time came for her friends to floo home. She was so thankful to have spent a day with them, especially today, but she couldn't hope but notice how right Daphne's words were. She probably wouldn't see them until September, and it left her feeling especially lonely. Just what was she going to do without them cheering her up?

"Dru." Blaise suddenly said. He was the last to use the floo, leaving just the two alone in the Parlor room. His dark eyes flashed again.

"Blaise, I don't care about what you said earlier..."

"Dru, it's... It's just that we've known you for almost two years. Yeah, Theo may be an idiot, but you can always speak with me. I know it may not seem like it sometimes, but I do care."

Dru smiled softly. "Thank-you, Blaise. I hope you do the same with me..."

Blaise nodded, giving her a tight hug before flooing home, leaving Dru feeling more lonely than touched by his words.

* * *

And the weeks and soon months that followed proved especially dull and boring at the Malfoy Manor. Father was frequently away on Ministry business, staying late nights or traveling the world on behalf of the Minister. It left only Mother and Dru alone at the Manor, but even then, Narcissa somehow managed to stay busy in the pureblood elite social gatherings. Whether it be brunches, fundraisers, or book clubs, Narcissa was almost as gone as Lucius, not that Dru was complaining. It meant less bullying by her mother about her self-care routine and managing her "hag's hair."

Still, it left Dru lonely. Many days she spent in the home library, reading books to pass the hours. However, she could only read for so long before she became restless. So she took to walking the grounds, admiring the gardens, and practicing Quidditch. One could only catch the Snitch for so long before it became repetitive and predictable, not at all like the adrenaline rush she had come to anticipate.

The weekly post from her friends came and went. Daphne was, once again, visiting the beauty of Southern France, with the occasional excursion to Paris. Pansy, this summer, was staying with her Father's relatives in Scotland, enjoying the pleasant weekends by the coast. Theo was in South America this time with his uncle. His uncle, a renowned curse breaker, was leading an expedition on a temple discovered somewhere in Argentina. And Blaise, well, Blaise was lounging by the pool in his summer villa with his mother and husband number four in Madrid.

Yet here was Dru, stuck in Wiltshire.

As she sat with her mother in the parlor room, once again, enjoying a cup of lemongrass tea with tarts, she couldn't keep quiet about her plans.

"Mother..."

"Yes, Druella." Narcissa turned to another page in the Witch Weekly magazine.

"I would like to propose an idea to you."

Narcissa sighed, closing the magazine. With it settled in her lap, she looked to her daughter. "Yes, dear, what is it?"

Dru breathed deeply, cooling her head, before speaking. "Well, with Father absent for extended periods, the notion occurred to me that with my summer holiday almost finished in just two and a half weeks, I do not have much time left to spend with him and you...Together, as a family."

"Please say your point, dear," Narcissa said.

"Right. Well, I was considering your schedule with him when the idea occurred to me. What if we were to join him on one of his business trips, specifically to the trip to the Japanese Ministry of Magic in Yokohama-"

"I will stop you there, Druella. I have already propositioned the idea to your father numerous times before. We even tried, when you were smaller. Sadly, it's a business trip, not a vacation. We'll hardly see him, and he would mostly be focused on his responsibilities as the head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. His job is to represent the Minister of Magic in international interests. As such, we would only be a hindrance to his work. So the answer is no, dear."

Dru seethed. "Well, then maybe we can-"

"Druella. I will not repeat myself. If you're so eager to leave Malfoy Manor, then you are more then welcome to visit Diagon Alley. Honestly, I don't know why you keep yourself cooped in here like you do."

"Wait," Dru said, her eyes widening at what her mother's words entail. "You are saying that I may leave?"

"You are thirteen years old, dear. Begging is not becoming for a lady. You may take some galleons out of my purse if you would like, but you must be home before dinner, of course."

"Thank you! Thank you!" Dru squealed, happily giggling and even hugging her mother before running to her room. She ignored her mother's surprised look after she hugged her, too happy to care.

She quickly changed, deciding to step out of the boring robes and Wizard clothes. Daphne and Blaise had been gracious enough to send gifts over the summer, including designer muggle clothes. These "babydoll dresses" were popular—"Honestly, Dru, you would dress like your mother, bless her heart, with the kind of robes you wear. I love you, dear, but your style is making me doubt that you're thirteen and not having a mid-life crisis." Dru thought Daphne was being a bit theatrical, but she was razor sharp with those comments.

Blaise and Daphne both agreed that emerald green was _her_ color, but Dru didn't want to look like a Malfoy right now. She wanted the freedom of being a teenage girl being free to roam about the city. So, black was the right call. As she stared at herself in the mirror, Dru thought the dress was a bit like her normal robes with how the excess fabric fell to her elbow, ruffled. Daphne had told her it was a more of a "ribbed frill sleeve smock dress" than a babydoll dress, whatever that meant.

Dru couldn't stop grinning at herself in her vanity; she was beautiful.

And, according to Blaise, the "chunky heel booties" would help her not look like a small child. Dru thought her two friends were incapable of giving compliments and advice without sass and back-handed compliments; she loved them all the more.

As she stuffed galleons into her change purse, placing that in her small leather satchel, she couldn't stop the excitement from bubbling over. Her lips hurt from smiling so much. She hadn't smiled this much since her friends had come over for her birthday. A sharp pain to her side. Dru wished they were here with her.

"Druella, dear!" Her mother called from the parlor room. "Since it's the middle of the day, please wear the hat the Parkinsons sent over for your birthday gift last year. We wouldn't want that pretty face of yours to wrinkle _too_ early, yes?"

Dru rolled her eyes, snatching the smooth, floppy hat hanging from where she last left it in the mudroom. She walked over to the parlor room, placing a swift peck on her mother's cheek.

"Yes, Mother. I'll be back soon! Send Spiffy if you need me!"

"Druella! That dress is impossibly _too_ short! A lady does not—"

"Goodbye, Mother!" Grabbing a handful of floo powder, Dru beamed as she yelled, "Diagon Alley!"

And she was gone in a flash.

* * *

Dru didn't know what she was expecting as she strolled through the busy streets in Diagon Alley.

She had already browsed through Flourish and Blotts, picking up an interesting copy on _Further Applications with Wandless Magic_, seeing it as an opportunity to get ahead in her Charms courses, as well as an interesting first-person account of curse-breaking in Egypt. Then, she marveled at the newest racing broom, the Firebolt. She was tempted to purchase it but decided she would refrain, seeing as her trusty Nimbus 2001 was still as quick and charming as ever—Achilles, as she lovingly refers to it. She considered new gloves as well but decided she would save that purchase for a future excursion.

She didn't bother with the Magical Menagerie, seeing as how her parents failed to come to a consensus two years ago over an owl or a cat. Dru would have preferred a puppy, but they were not considered _magically inclined_ as the other animals would have been. Honestly, Dru couldn't find enjoyment in a pecking bird or a yowling cat. Dogs were much cuter anyways, especially the breed that the muggle Queen loves.

The sight of Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions made her turn up her nose at the thought being poked and prodded. She had no use going to the Bank, the Wand Shop or the Apothecary. If she even set foot into Twilfitt and Tatting's, they would ring for her mother immediately and insist that they should consider their newest collection from Paris, with items considered just for Narcissa Malfoy and her lovely daughter included. Dru rolled her eyes at that, deciding she would brave the shop when she shopped for Hogwarts supplies come later that month.

With a few hours to spend, Dru had exhausted all of her options. Except, well, for Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. The thought of a sweet coffee and mint chocolate chip cone made her mouth drool. It was an impossibly hot day, and Dru convinced herself she deserved this treat. Yes, this was her first excursion free from her mother's dainty claws and her father's ever-watchful eyes. She deserved a treat. Perhaps she could instead order a float and stay to read one of her books.

The bell of the shop rang softly as she quickly stepped inside, happy to be met with a cool breeze. Dru would have to thank Mr. Fortescue for placing a cooling charm in his parlor, unlike some other shops she had visited earlier. Dru immediately strolled up to the counter, happily tapping her fingers on the cool surface as she watched Mr. Fortescue come in from the back with a new flavor of ice cream.

"Aw! Ms. Malfoy!" He greeted, charming smile as ever oozing out from the smile lines on his tan face. "What can I do you for?"

She grinned. "Hello, Mr. Fortescue. I'm thinking a butterbeer float would do today."

He laughed. "Right you are. Awfully hot for Diagon Alley today. Say, should I whip something up for your parents? Will they be coming in shortly...?"

"Oh, no thank you," Dru shook her head. "It appears I travel alone today."

She handed him a galleon as he counted the sickles and knuts in change. Plopping it into her palm, he offered another one of his effortless smiles. "Just a minute, Ms. Malfoy. It seems Hogwarts students find it a good time to be visiting the shop. Another classmate of yours has been coming in as of late to complete his homework. He's right over there if you would like to see him."

Dru excitedly turned around to see a boy, hiding in the corner. Dru, for a second, thought that mop of black hair belonged to Blaise, but later realized that it was too shaggy and messy compared to her friend's gelled and shaped style. And to top it off, she saw old, second-hand muggle clothes and glasses hiding behind a large book. She smirked at his poor attempts to hide from her gaze.

"Fancy seeing you here, Potter." She drawled with mock astonishment. She easily glided over to the table, plopping on the chair across from him as she smirked at his uncomfortableness. Crossing her ankles and placing her hands in her lap, she gave a small wave. He hesitantly dropped the book as she stared at him.

"Hullo, Malfoy."

"Thought you stayed with the muggles over the holiday." She prodded.

He blinked. "How would you know that?"

"Well," She shrugged. "Gryffindors aren't necessarily _subtle_ when they speak. Blame Weasley and his rants."

"Honestly, Ron..." he grumbled, closing his eyes.

"Cheer up, Potter! It's not like I was looking forward to gracing the presence of _the_ Boy Wonder today."

"And I thought I would be free from _the_ nosy Malfoy for a bit longer."

Dru laughed, thanking Mr. Fortescue as he brought her float. "Shoddy luck we have."

"You're awfully pleasant today."

She sipped the float. "You're awfully snarky today."

"Come off it, Malfoy."

She just laughed again, too happy to see how irritated he was becoming. She didn't realize how much she missed poking fun at him. It was that or the fact she missed speaking to someone other than her nagging mother. It also looked like he needed a good knocking down of pegs since she's seen him, and Dru was more than happy to contribute her share.

She looked back to his book, and the forgotten parchment, quill, inkpot, and empty glass bowl with sticky caramel and fudge sauce smeared all other, appearing fresh too. She sipped her float again.

"So, what are you working on, Potter?"

He groaned, slumping back into his chair. "Honestly, Malfoy, bug off will you?"

She quickly snatched the book in retaliation, sifting through the pages and ignoring his cries of protest and rudeness.

She glanced at the cover. "Witch hunts? Is this the summer assignment from History of Magic?"

"What's it to you?"

"Oh, I finished this ages ago. I think the first week we came home from Hogwarts, I should say."

Harry rolled his eyes. "No one likes a show-off."

"No need to be so defensive, Potter." She teased, handing the book back to him. "Besides, why haven't you finished it? Cutting it close-"

"Well, seeing as how I stay with my aunt and uncle who despise magic, it's hard to complete magical assignments under their noses then." He retorted, his temper flaring. It was like a spitfire, bubbling over, but quickly dying just as fast as it appeared. Dru owlishly blinked at him.

"So," She slowly continued, testing the waters. "Why are you here then? Why aren't you with them?"

"What's it to you?"

Dru shrugged. "Simple curiosity I would say, but honestly, my summer has been positively boring with only a dotting house to return to. This is, by far, the most intriguing thing to have happened to me so far. Besides my birthday, of course."

Harry sighed, running his hands through his hair. Dru happily sipped her float.

"Let's just say they became too impatient with my so-called 'troubling and criminal magical antics.'"

"Really?" Dru snorted—Mother's voice scolded her for how unbecoming she was acting. "Being vague and mysterious about it."

Harry Potter shrugged, looking back to his unfinished paper which Druella Malfoy promptly snatched from his hands.

"Give it back, Malfoy!"

"In a second," She mumbled, reading his work.

He ran his hand through his hair again, pushing his glasses back into place as he impatiently waited for the girl to give back his work. Honestly, the gall of this girl to come strolling and pestering him, he grumbled to himself. A minute or so later, she handed it back to him.

"You neglect to fully incorporate the background research you addressed at the beginning of the paper to the rest of your argument. It's only mentioned once, in brief, I would say, as a grounds to your argument."

"What?" He intelligently asked.

Dru rolled her eyes, stealing his quill to mark notes on his work as she spoke. "Consider researching a personal account of the witch hunts to establish your pathos and ethos as an author. Also, stop adding trivial facts and unnecessary phrases to bulk your length. Your arguments should be succinct and easy to follow. All of this nonsense makes it hard to understand. Besides that, you have an interesting thesis."

"Again, what?"

"This is called constructive criticism, Potter." She deadpanned, sipping her float.

"But, but-"

"I honestly do not understand how Granger puts up with this nonsense when I see her proofread your papers. It's a miracle you have good marks."

"Hey!"

"Am I wrong?" Dru retorted, pulling out her book. "Honestly, how did she not tell you this before?"

"Well, she mostly just tells us what to write..."

"And that, Potter, is called cheating."

"Like you do any better!"

Dru laughed, a crisp and coy chuckle at his pathetic comeback. "Number two in our class, in case you have forgotten, Boy Wonder."

He wrinkled his nose. "Don't call me that." He looked to see her opening her book. "What are you doing?"

"I'm reading until you fix your stupid mistakes. I'll save you and Granger a headache and proofread when you're done."

"Why are you being so, um, nice?"

Dru considered his words, and she was at a loss. Why was she being almost pleasant with her sworn enemy? Why wasn't she throwing her classic one-liners and sneers with every sarcastic retort his way? Why hadn't she teased him about his broken glasses, his faded and second-hand clothes, and his raggedy appearance? Why was she even bothering to help him? What was in it for her, for Druella Lucia Malfoy? Why would she even bother with the likes of him?

A sudden pass of loneliness seized her in a vice-like grip. She will batter it away just as easily. Her face remained stoic—unfazed and unbothered.

"I dunno," she answered. "Pity on the Boy Who Lived and his terrible, terrible essay-writing skills?"

Potter scowled; his cheeks reddened—wrong answer. "I don't need your pity, especially from the likes of you."

"And what do you mean by that?" She vehemently sneered, her skin prickling in anger.

"I don't need this haughty, spoiled girl telling me what to do."

Dru balked. "And I don't need this stupid, egotistical _boy_ telling me what kind of person I am."

She abruptly stood up, packing her things away. Unshed tears were fighting their way free, but Dru blinked them away. Now wasn't the time for an emotional girl to be hurt by words, especially in front of _him_. She wouldn't let him get to her; she refused it. _Then why are you leaving?_

"Gah, Dru, wait." Potter suddenly said. She stopped, refusing to look at him. "I'm sorry."

Dru blinked. He was apologizing? Why was he apologizing? She didn't realize Harry Potter was capable of apologies.

"I beg your pardon?" Her voice croaked.

Harry sighed again, leaning further back in his seat. "Um, sorry, that was a bit rude of me."

Dru slowly sat down, considering his words. Why would he apologize? What was in it for him? Did he want her to look like a hysterical girl who was too sensitive? Did he want to take the higher moral ground to make her appear like a grudge-holding brat who threw temper tantrums when something doesn't go her way? If she was in his position right now, she wouldn't back down; she wouldn't have apologized. So, why did he? What was he trying to accomplish?

Dru remained quiet, avoiding his look. What was she supposed to say to that? What did he want from her?

"Alright." She finally said, gathering some courage to look at him. His green eyes were too bright, too intense, and too overwhelming for her. "I accept your apology."

Harry breathed in a sigh of relief. "Look, I, Hermione told me what happened at detention first year." Dru panicked, wandering how that girl possibly spun the story. Was she the selfish girl, fleeing for her own life and leaving her classmate to die? Was she the emotional girl who couldn't get a grip on herself? "She, she told me how you kept repeating you thought I was right behind you..."

Dru briskly replied, "And I thought you were!"

"I, I know. And, I'm sorry for doing that to you."

Dru thickly swallowed, nodding.

"Look, Dru," He continued. "Um, if you're still willing to help me, I've been staying at the Leaky Cauldron."

An invitation, Dru concluded. An invitation to what, though, she had no idea. What game was he playing with her? What was his angle? What was he trying to accomplish with being so chummy, so _nice_? Did he want to try being pleasant with each other, or did he want something from her?

She considered him, before finally replying. "I'll be there around 1 o'clock sharp. I expect at least half of a foot work's completed for me to review with a fully completed thesis by then. I do not accept tardiness."

And with that, she quickly left the ice cream parlor, her mind mulling over the conversation.

By Merlin, what did she do?!

* * *

As she paced in the drawing-room, staring at the fireplace where she was supposed to floo to the Leaky Cauldron in precisely three minutes, Dru couldn't reconcile with the fact that _she had made plans to see that stupid Boy Wonder...willingly_!

What was she thinking? She sighed deeply as she dug her nails into her palms, pacing in front of the fireplace. Why would she agree to see her archenemy? By Merlin, she was even _helping_ him! She feared for her health, wondering if some spell or disease had fried her brain. What had gotten into her? She was even being _friendly_ with Harry Potter, the twit who was as cruel as he was arrogant and selfish. If Pansy were here, she would be wrestling her to the floor, slapping her face until she got a grip on herself. Daphne would send one of her distasteful glares with Blaise following with a disdainful sneer. Theo would probably attack Potter.

Even her parents would be displeased to hear that she was meeting with him. Sure, Father had wanted her to be friends with him years prior, but after Potter haggled for Dobby's freedom, embarrassing Lucius in the process, he wanted nothing more than to stain his name. Mother wouldn't be too pleased either, most likely wrinkling her nose at his half-blood status and the lingering Muggle stench. If they were ever to find out that she was seeing him, they would most certainly banish her to her for the rest of the summer, most likely forbidding her from returning to Hogwarts until next Spring!

With all of her friends' and family's voices inside her head, demanding for her to lock herself up in her room, Dru still felt compelled to see Harry Potter.

As she slowly grabbed the floo powder in her hand, she firmly decided that she was only seeing him see what plans he had this year. Dru wanted to know what exactly was his goal in being friends with her. She would use this opportunity to her advantage, yes... That's it!

With a curt nod to herself, she decided she would use him before he used her. No one bested a Malfoy, and she was sure as bloody hell not going to let him win.

"The Leaky Cauldron!"

With a flash, she found herself in a dusty bar.

She saw a woman, wrapped in a thick, but worn, shawl waving her hand. Effortlessly, chairs were lifted from the floor, gently being set upside on top of their respective tables. A walking mop followed behind, quickly scrubbing at the floor as a bucket hopped behind, sloshing soapy suds all over the floor. Another worker, an even older man with a large scar on one side of his face, was wiping glasses with a dishtowel. The unpleasant look on his face left Dru to sit on the opposite side of the bar, far, far away from the man.

As she moved to sit on the barstool, creaking it slightly when she sat, she couldn't help but notice how empty it was. It was only her and the two other workers. Besides the loud clanking sounds from the mop and bucket, it was awfully quiet. Dru, uncomfortable in its silence, quickly pulled her new book out. She quietly read to pass the time.

Several minutes passed, and Dru was readying to leave. Who was she to think Potter would show. He was barely polite yester at the ice cream parlor, and that was after he had enjoyed a large sundae. She figured he would be in a foul mood, so why she even bother to wait for him. The bartender had already come and asked if she would like a drink, to which she quickly said a glass of water with lemon would be fine. She despised the idea of being left to wait. Father always stressed the importance of punctuality. Mother, on the other hand, stressed it was not socially acceptable to show up on time-"Always thirty or so minutes late, my dear, otherwise you appear too anxious and antsy, and suitable bachelors despise an antsy lady."

As she was just about to stand to leave, a voice awkwardly coughed behind her.

"Didn't think you were going to show."

She turned to see Harry Potter, refusing to meet her eyes. He was dressed much like the day before with his second-hand shirts and pants. Today, however, they seemed less over-sized.

Dru wrinkled her nose at his nervousness. "What did I say about punctuality, Potter."

"Yet you still waited, huh?" He quickly scurried to sit beside her at the bar, sliding over a piece of parchment. "Here. This was all I could finish before now."

Immediately, Dru snatched the parchment and began to read. She was hoping to avoid these pleasantries, curling her lips at their insincerity. She was also hoping to avoid this awkwardness in how they spoke to each other. Dru was still sore with his words from yesterday, and she could sense he was still wary of her. She didn't blame him; she was a threat to be reckoned with.

She slowly handed the parchment back to him. "Much better than yesterday. You cannot still integrate your evidence and research, but your ideas are promising. Perhaps a simple 'idea one because of x, y, and z' style would be better suited for you."

"Sorry, what?"

And that was how the rest of the exchange continued for the next hour or so.

Dru would read, reassess, and coyly remarked on how he was able to defend his argument—"Potter, I think you may be able to defend yourself after this, but I would still murder you with my counterarguments." He would be embarrassed or defensive, but grumpily listened to her notes and rewrote it accordingly. Despite who her company was, Dru _enjoyed_ herself, finding that her laughs were as plentiful as her witty retorts.

She could see why people flocked to the Boy Wonder. He was nice, in some aspects. There was some humor when he wasn't pouting over her harsh criticisms, and he knew how to handle Dru's famous sarcasm. He never grew tired of it, unlike Pansy who would lose her temper if Dru teased her for too long. In fact, he replied with his witty remark, eliciting a sudden giggle from the girl.

If anything, Dru could, begrudgingly might she add, see the Harry Potter as a friendly acquaintance.

"Well, I guess you should be fine with the rest of the paper without me." Dru abruptly said. She placed her hand on the faded jeans, not sure if she liked the texture and structure, or she found it too blocky and heavy for her taste. "I should say that Granger might even send me a chocolate frog in thanks for taking on such a hopeless case as yours."

Instead of vehemently defending himself like he had the day before, Harry rolled his eyes. "Well, um, thanks, Dru."

Dru caught on to the use of her name. She wasn't sure what it meant, but she liked hearing it more than the venomous _Malfoy_ she was accustomed to hearing from him.

She nodded. "You're welcome, Harry."

As she stood from her seat, thanking the bartender for his service and leaving several sickles on the counter as his tip. She quickly turned on the same booties she wore the day before, having decided she liked how "edgy" and "tall" she felt in them. They matched well with her midnight blue velvet shirt that Daphne was obsessing over at her birthday party.

As she walked over to the fireplace to floo, she felt like she was waiting for something. Frowning, she looked over to where Harry was sitting, finding it empty. She searched for him, finding him already jogging up the creaky stairs to the inn part of the pub.

"Malfoy Manor!" She called, without a second glance to the boy.

He hadn't said goodbye, she later realized that night. She rolled her eyes at the realization, focusing her efforts back into brushing her hair. She didn't give the boy a second thought for the rest of the night, and several days after.

* * *

Dru didn't return to the Leaky Cauldron or Diagon Alley for a week after last seeing Harry Potter. Father had just returned from his trip from Greece, having been called to represent Minister Fudge in signing a new deal with the Athens ministry over something Dru couldn't care for. All she knew was that with Father returning, her sudden freedom would be revoked.

He was pleasant enough when he first greeted her but quickly asked for her removal as he needed to speak to her mother about "important discussions" that didn't include a thirteen-years-old input. Of course, Dru couldn't care and tried to listen in quietly in his office, pressing her ear close to the walnut door. After a minute of absolute silence, she figured her father had cast a silencing charm over the door.

Dru scowled in defeat, huffing as she stomped up to her room.

As she collapsed over her reading chair, Dru returned to her dreadfully boring summer.

The week passed ever so slowly, ever hour lazily waltzing by Dru. She was so irritated, her eyes itching for something interesting. She finished her books within a day of her father's return. She resorted to the home library but found nothing suited to her taste. Dru organized her closet, then her trunk, then her desk, and then her closest _again_. She had already sorted clothes by type, ranging from winter coats to summer dresses to formal robes. Now, it's organized by color, which Dru soon realized was an overwhelming amount of black, followed by a good chunk of greens, from jade to lime, to whites and greys.

Dru spent her mornings outside, rolling up her old Quidditch jerseys to put in some practice. However, she could only catch the Golden Snitch so many times before she grew weary of the task. She even tried the other positions, before quickly deciding there was a reason why she was the seeker, and not a beater—her poor side still hurt days after, an awful yellowed bruise.

Dru refused to step in the kitchen; she had finally accepted she will forever be incapable of cooking and baking and decided to spare their new elf the horror and disaster that is Dru trying to make tea tarts. Dobby, despite being ever so devoted to Dru, had gone so far as to ban her when he first saw the smoking oven, the batter on the ceiling, and the flour covering the whole counter and floor.

Dru had exhausted every option she possibly could, and she was _so bored_.

Then, Father spoke to her one day in his office, working on some international policy agreement as usual.

"Druella Lucia! Merlin, if you so much as dare to tap that finger on the chair again, I will banish you to your room for the rest of the break!"

"Father! It's just that I am so _bored_-"

He groaned, pinching his nose. "Honestly, Druella. Why haven't you gone back to Diagon Alley? Surely you still need to shop for supplies for Hogwarts, yes?"

Dru blinked. "I beg your pardon."

He reached inside his robe, pulling out his coin bag. Fishing out _several_ galleons, he set them on his desk. "Go run along now, before you give me another headache."

"Thank you! Thank you!"

And yet again, Dru dashed to her room to change, happily humming a song to herself.

* * *

She saw him this time in the Quidditch store, talking to some of his fellow housemates whose name she couldn't bother to remember. He seemed cheery talking to them as they gawked over the Firebolt. Normally, Dru wouldn't mind if they saw her, but for some reason, she hid behind a mannequin.

She tried to remain casual, inspecting a pair of gloves or a jersey here or there. A few minutes later, and the boys left Harry alone. Dru waited another minute before approaching him.

"The Firebolt is exquisite, yes?"

Harry jumped at the too-familiar trill of a voice behind him. "Blimey, Dru. You don't sneak up behind someone like that."

Dru shrugged, clasping her hands behind her back. "Considering buying it?"

He shook his head. "No, I shouldn't. My Nimbus 2000 is still good."

"Yes, my Nimbus 2001 is awfully quick. Yes, Achilles is by far the best broom I've owned so far."

"Achilles?" Harry chuckled. "You named your broom?"

"What's it to you?" Dru snapped, hiding her embarrassment with a quick turn to browse the opposite wall.

Harry laughed again, turning to walk out of the store. Dru followed, deciding she would bother him for the entertainment she so desperately craved.

"We're going to Flourish and Blotts. I need to purchase my books for Hogwarts." She stated, already pushing through the crowd towards the shop, not waiting for him to catch up to her stride.

"Wait, we are?"

"Yes! Keep up, will you?"

And that roundabout banter was much like how the rest of their afternoon went. Harry had his fair share of teasing when Dru asked for the _Monster Book of Monsters_, sending the poor manager into a heart attack. She had yelped when it tried to bite her hand off, leaving Harry laughing and clutching his side at the sight. He made comments on her books of purchase, remarking on how much she was like Granger with her incessant need to excel in her classes.

They browsed through the other stores, checking off items on her list before they finally returned to Fortescue's. The man himself smiled at their arrival offering their sundaes free of charge—"Harry here told me how you helped him finish his paper, so a treat is most definitely in order, yeah?"

As they ate their ice cream, Dru suddenly realized that she was actually _friends_ with Harry Potter. She wasn't sure what to think of it. She still despised him for his recklessness, stupidity, and ego, but she also saw how funny and sincere he could be.

"Dru, do you know anything about Sirius Black?"

She turned her head back to him, quirking her brow. "What for, Harry?"

He nodded his head to a forgotten _Dailey Prophet_ on the table beside them, Sirius Black manically holding his prisoner card on the front page, screaming bloody murder—probably not the best word choice.

"He was even on the muggle news. What exactly did he do?"

Dru shrugged. "Mass murderer I think." She was ignorant of how Harry's face paled considerably. "From what Father has told me, he is a relative on my mother's side. Her maiden name was Black as well; I believe they were cousins of some sort. I remember his mother was purely awful from the one time I visited when I was little before her death. Other than that, I do not know."

Harry nodded. "Do you think they'll catch him?"

"They should, but Father says not to trust Fudge's word on anything, least anything on violence and murder. Why the sudden interest?"

"Dunno," Harry said too casually. "I suppose we'd be safe at Hogwarts, yeah?"

Dru snorted. "After the Chamber of Secrets? Hardly."

She saw how he was staring at her in terror. Feeling guilty, she placated her words. "But that was because it came from the inside. Sirius Black could not possibly break into Hogwarts, especially with Headmaster Dumbledore and all the Professors there to protect us." She frowned when he still didn't cheer up. "Cheer up, Harry. Worrying is for fools. If you would like, I'll research more on him from my family's library. Surely we would have some records regarding the Black family, seeing as how they were a prestigious pureblood family."

Harry finally nodded, but his voice didn't sound so reassured. "Yeah, thanks, Dru."

Their conversation died after that, both too consumed in their thoughts. Dru abruptly said she was to return to Malfoy Manor-"Or else Father will banish me away to my room for the rest of break." In reality, she was trying to get away from his sudden foul mood. It was too contagious, his worry and fear. She would rather be productive than sulking away over the solution. She bid him ado, quickly walking away to the Leaky Cauldron to floo away from Harry Potter.

* * *

She decided to throw herself into the research of Sirius Black. She would never admit it, but she was curious just who he was, especially to her family. With the last name like Black, she wouldn't be surprised if he was as zealous and filled with bloodlust as how her Auntie Bellatrix is. It certainly seemed that way, with his imprisonment in Azkaban. Still, Dru had a knack for "sniffing" out the suspiciousness out of anything, and Sirius Black reeked.

When Father saw such a large pile of thick, ornate and leather-bound books on the desk in the library, he inquired. Normally, Dru wouldn't pause in explaining to him her plans, but she felt that this wasn't something she would share with him just yet. So, she played it off as research into her family history. With how her father preened under her curiosity and handed her even _more_ records about the Malfoy and Black family, she couldn't help a coy chuckle under her breath. Honestly, he could be so superficial.

She first confirmed that the House of Black was, in fact, one of the 28 pureblood families in Great Britan. She saw how close the Black, Malfoy, and even Weasley families were intertwined. She gagged when she saw the Weasley name next to a Black name. Despite how distant relatives she was with Ronald Weasley, the fact alone left her wrinkling her nose in disdain. Of course, she saw a note, most likely made by Father, noting of their "blood traitor" status.

Dru then focused on the Black family itself, only going back a few generations, just enough to gain a clear picture of who married who and who birthed who.

According to the book, Sirius Black was born to an Orion and Walburga Black. He had a younger brother, Regulus Black, born only a couple years after him. She was further disgusted to see that her eyes were _not_ deceiving her, but that they were a product of incest, seeing as how their parents shared a great-grandfather, Phineas Nigellus Black, whom Dru recalled being a Headmaster at Hogwarts. She had assumed that the pureblood families had to be interrelated to "preserve" the pureblood, but it still made her scowl at the thought. As Dru looked further into it, she noticed that her mother was in fact cousins with him. His mother and her grandfather were siblings, therefore making Sirius Black her first cousin, once removed.

Once she confirmed her blood relation with him, she moved onto more recent records to ascertain what he did before ending up in Azkaban. She looked to her mother's journals, and father's records of their time at Hogwarts, having been in Hogwarts at about the same time though slightly older. From what her mother wrote, Sirius was a Gryffindor, a traitorous act in of itself for the Black family. She knew that much for herself, as her mother had forcibly embedded that idea into her mind that Slytherin was superior and all others were inferiors. He was also close friends with another pureblood, James Potter. Dru raised her eyes at that line. Was this James Potter related to Harry? She would need to clarify with him or with Father later.

However, those were the only notes she had gathered from Mother's journals. When she began a section relating to how charming and handsome her father had been, she quickly snapped the book shut and moved onto other things.

Father had even less on Sirius. He was a Gryffindor, yes, but he had saved a clipped article from the _Daily Prophet_, recalling the original arrest of Sirius Black and his crimes. Dru quickly read through, before her eyes bulged at this new piece of information she discovered. Yet, at the same time, it broke her heart as she saw the pieces come together.

Sirius Black was friends with James Potter and Lily Evans, Harry's parents. However, he betrayed them to the Dark Lord as it was later reported, which ultimately led to their demise that fateful Halloween night so many years ago. Not only was he responsible for the deaths of his closest friends, including a Peter Pettigrew, but he murdered twelve Muggle bystanders as well.

She quickly ended her research there, the cruel realizations overwhelming her. Sirius Black had, albeit indirectly, murdered Harry's parents. And now, rumor has it he is returning to Hogwarts to finish him off. It left Dru stunned and deeply afraid. Another threat upon Hogwarts! It seemed Dru could never get a break from Potter's bad luck. And now here she was, being sent to the place where the mass murderer and escaped convict is most likely on the prowl!

It left her deeply disturbed, so much that she could hardly sleep that night, let alone the next.

She didn't leave the Manor to seek Harry out to reveal the new information she had promised him. She would tell him later on the Hogwarts Express, once she has gathered enough courage to even tell him. News like this shouldn't be taken lightly, and Dru feared he would do something reckless in response, like a search for the wizard himself.

Instead, Dru focused her time on reading ahead in her books. She didn't even bother with the monster book, too afraid it'll bite her fingers off.

* * *

Dru was practically bouncing on her toes when she saw the familiar golden hair and stiff back in a sea of brown and auburn hair after kissing her parents' cheeks good-bye.

"Daphne!"

The girl's head turned around, searching the crowd. When her doe blue eyes landed on Dru, she squealed.

"Dru!"

The girls ran to each, giggling and hugging. When Dru pulled back, she saw how much her friend had grown since she last saw her.

Her hair was as smooth and soft as ever, but it was longer, reaching to her mid-back now. She seemed taller too, beating Dru by a few inches. But, what Dru couldn't quite put her finger on, was this new air about her. Did she seem more...peaceful? Dru wasn't quite sure, but it radiated off the girl like a halo, emphasizing all of her delicate features more. A sudden bitter taste filled her mouth, catching Dru off-guard. She immediately swallowed it, losing herself in the excitement of seeing her best friend.

"Have you seen Pansy, love?" Daphne asked, her cheeks red from smiling.

Dru shook her head. "No, not yet, but she should be here by now."

They searched the crowds, but they knew it would be fruitless. Pansy was shorter than both of them, making it harder to spot the top of her head like Dru had done.

As Dru looked, she saw the familiar red-heads of the Weasley family, all hustle and bustle to reach the platform. She noticed two figures walking closely behind—Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, her hair as frizzy and voluminous as ever. She made a mental note to search for Potter's compartment, later on, hoping to catch him alone. She would rather break the news without Weasley's and Granger's glares burning the back of her skull.

"Dru! Daph!"

The girls turned to see Pansy Parkison launching herself at them for a large hug. All the girls giggled.

"Honestly, Pansy!" Daphne teased. "You almost threw us onto the tracks with that hug!"

Pansy elbowed her in response. Dru also noticed a change in her, but a more protruding one at that.

"Merlin!" Dru gasped. "Pansy! What are _those?!_"

Pansy snickered. "S'not the only thing I've been blessed with this summer, sadly. But they're still fun, yeah?"

"Only you would call your breasts 'fun.'" Daphne drawled, turning back to the train.

The conductor had called for boarding, so the girls quickly boarded the train, scaring some first years from a compartment near the middle of the train. It wasn't really terrorizing the girls, but more of Pansy's sneer and a tiny wave of her wand.

"Honestly, Pansy! Leave those poor girls be and just tell us whatever _this_ is all about." Daphne scolded, her eyes drawing again to Pansy's new breasts.

Pansy shrugged. "Dunno what else to say but that they sort of just appeared. They're kinda nice, yeah, but awfully _heavy_." She said thoughtfully, pushing her arms together to squeeze them.

Dru cackled at the funny sight while Daphne gasped; Dru said. "Put them away, Pans, and tell us all about what you did this summer! Please tell me you didn't punch another girl again."

"Hey! She was asking for it with the way she was staring at me, all haughty. If anything, her parents should've thanked me for knocking her down a peg or two."

"Pansy, dear, she had a black eye for over a _week_!"

"What else can I say, but that I have a nasty left hook, yeah?"

"She was your _cousin_!"

And that was much of their ride back to Hogwarts.

Pansy told her stories with ridiculous details and her theories of their secret lives, like how her uncle Tomas was the brilliant madman behind the town's curious string of burglaries and thefts or how her cousin's sister-in-law was actually in love with that cousin's sister and was secretly having an affair with her. Daphne just turned her nose up at Pansy's nosy thoughts with the occasional comment dripping in sarcasm, whereas Dru was holding her sides for dear life, laughing so hard she was crying. Then came Daphne, who reveled in the memories of the exquisite clothing, the delicious food, and the beautiful views that only Southern France was privy to. She also prattled on about some famous Wizard designers she had met and their "dashingly handsome models."

When it was Dru's turn, she had nothing to tell them. Here they were, with their awesome summer stories, while Dru had remained imprisoned in Malfoy Manor.

Dru considered telling them she saw and even became pleasant acquaintances with Harry Potter, but she didn't know what to expect. Would they be outraged, saying she was conspiring with the enemy? Would they be disgusted, seeing as how she betrayed her pureblood roots? Would they tease her, ignore her, or say she's gone crazy? She figured Pansy would start yelling up a storm while Daphne would give her _the look_ she would only give if they had done something to disappoint her.

She didn't know how they would react; she didn't know how she would tell them. There was too much that she didn't know, and even more possibilities she could prepare for.

Suddenly, Dru realized something.

Was Harry in the same position as her? Would he tell Granger and Weasley that they were on better terms? Would he even dare call her a friend, or an acquaintance or something else? Would he even want to be friends with her now that they're back with their friends, and it was no longer them in Diagon Alley? Did he still want to be friends, if that was ever an option? Or was Dru being the one stuck in the past; the girl who was too clingy and read too much into the situation?

"Nothing's changed as I was still a prisoner in Malfoy Manor. Not much for me to say, sadly." Dru finally answered, looking out the window to focus on the passing scenery.

And the girls left it at that, going on to talk about what would be happening at Hogwarts, their plans for Hogsmeade when Dru would finally work up the nerve to ask her father for permission, and who the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor would be, joking that the position was cursed.

Dru didn't blink twice about her decision.

* * *

Hours past easily, the girls laughs and jokes slowly dying as they fell asleep.

Pansy and Daphne leaned on their respective corners but shared a cloak over them. Dru had awoken only moments ago, feeling the sun's last rays warm her face. Dusk was as beautiful as she missed. Normally, the towering trees skirting the west side blocked the beautiful colors, but as she sat in her seat, gazing out the window, she smiled briefly at the pinks and purples mingling with the clouds.

It was peaceful, but it was soon forgotten when the terrible rain clouds overtook the sky. The rain was relentless, pelting the windows in an unyielding assault. The fog was quick to follow. It floated over the land, settling upon it like how the cloak laid on her friends' bodies. Daring greenery poked through once in a while, but essentially, the view was a desolate one.

Dru found herself restless all of a sudden. The weak light from outside left too strange of a hue on the compartment. Suddenly, everything was jagged and too sharp in the light but laid too muddled in the shadows. Dru's heart raced; she curled her fingers into her palm.

"S'what is it, love?" Daphne mumbled, sitting up to stretch her willowy arms.

Dru looked to her, her grey eyes holding her. "Need to use the loo. Be back in a few."

She sprang from her seat, pulling open the pocket door to harshly as it banged open.

"Hey!" Pansy hissed at Dru, but the blonde girl was already stalking down the aisle, towards the back of the train where the toilets were.

She didn't bother looking into the compartments like how she normally did. She considered herself more of an observer proudly, but now all she wanted was to sit on the damn loo.

The hairs on the back of her neck pricked, but she stalked forth.

Surprisingly, she found a familiar red-head, a busy-haired girl, and a mop of raven hair. Boy Wonder and his goons, of course. Dru considered speaking with them. Maybe the casual drawl of Weasley's worn robes, or how Granger's face would get wrinkles if she kept pinching it like that would bring some amusement, a distraction, from her whirling mind, but she didn't find it appetizing. In fact, she would prefer to avoid them at all costs. Especially Harry Potter.

But it seemed they spotted her, and Weasley needed to defend his territory.

"What are ya looking at, _Malfoy_?" He growled, his face flushing bright red in defiance. He was gangly, towering her; he even puffed his chest and crossed his arms as he leaned against the frame.

Dru stared straight back at him. With her audacity, she matched his height. With her defiance, she topped him.

"Didn't realize that you were guarding the loo, but it shouldn't surprise me, seeing as how that's where you live."

"Take that back, you snake!"

"Sorry, but I don't have the time to be bothered by you."

"Malfoy—!"

"Ronald!" Granger suddenly hissed. She nodded her head to the fourth guest in the compartment. He was unknown to Dru. "It would be rude to wake _Professor Lupin_, yes?"

Dru blinked, realizing what she was saying, but she didn't feel threatened by the professor's presence. Weasley spoke first, so he was at fault. She was only passing by to reach the loo. "Yes, Weasley. Do shut up and leave me alone."

She walked away before they could reply, not wanting to be on the bad side of a professor she could have. She was too smart for their tricks; she knew when she was being set up, and she knew when to retreat. Self-preservation is the name of the game in the pureblood world, right?

She made quick work in the loo, scrubbing roughly at her hands as she washed up. Dru took the time to look in the mirror, however. She paused, smoothing her hair and fixing her school robes she had changed into earlier. She was Druella Lucia Malfoy, and Merlin forbids if her mother saw her in this state. Inhaling, exhaling, she quickly walked out of the small restroom.

However, she was oblivious to the sudden darkness on the halted train when she opened the door. And to the cloaked figure standing before her.

It was standing in the doorway to a compartment—Harry's compartment. Her eyes blinked furiously, hoping that it was only a shadow she had mistaken for a being, but it moved; it _floated_. She couldn't move, her feet rooted to the carpet. Her eyes blinked back tears. Her breath was shaky, ragged. She curled her fingers into her palms.

She saw a hand stretch out from beneath the cloak. It was grey, slimy, and moldy. It was a rotting hand, and Dru wondered if it was even a person. Suddenly, it breathed in. It was like the bugs in summer that stayed in the trees by her manor, a rattled breath. It rasped for air, sucking in all the joy and warmth and color in the room instead. When it breathed in again, the world became dull, grey, lifeless...

She heard shouting, screams...Everything was far away. She was weightless, floating. A sudden flash of light, the worn scent of the carpet, a thud...

There was nothing. Nothing was infinite around her, consuming her as she closed her eyes.

"Malfoy?"

"Quick! Professor Lupin!"

"Yes, yes... Come on up you go."

Her eyes blinked open. She blinked again before sitting up. There was a man in front of her, putting a dark substance into her hand, before curling her fingers closed around it. Blinking, blinking again.

She spoke. "What happened?"

He pursed his lips.

"It was a dementor!" Dru looked up to see Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom staring at her, pale and anxious. The poor boy was blubbering up a storm as Granger shakily explained what had happened. "It, it came aboard the train and attacked you and Harry. Then, you, you both fainted."

"It was not an attack." The man barked. "Its presence merely affected you more than the others. There now, have some chocolate, and you'll be fine, yes?"

Dru slowly nodding, blinking when the man took her hand and helped her to stand.

"Back to your compartment, I should say." The man ordered, offering a nod. "Oh, forgive me. I am a new Professor at Hogwarts, Professor Lupin."

Dru didn't care to greet him or to shake his hand. Turning away to walk back to her friends, she couldn't stop her hands from hugging her shoulders. She didn't spare a glance at Harry or Weasley or the other person in the compartment, too proud to give them a chance to see her in shock. Instead, her head was straight and right. Mother would be proud of her composure, but Father would berate her for her show of weakness.

When she collapsed into her seat in the compartment, Daphne and Pansy began to riddle off questions towards her.

"Did you see what happened, Dru?" Pansy asked, her eyes wildly looking around-a tell-tale sign she has some juicy information to share. "The lights went off and the train stopped. I think I saw some Dementors board! Did you see them?!"

"Pansy! She's obviously in shock! Let the poor girl breathe." Pansy rolled her eyes as Daphne cooed to Dru. "What happened, love? Are you all right?"

Dru shook her head. "Fine, fine, fine... Taking another wink before we arrive."

Daphne pursed her lips at the girl. Dru was staring at the window now, holding her cloak a bit tighter around her as she slowly blinked and breathed. It didn't take her long to fall back asleep, leaving her to speak with Pansy privately.

"If you say you saw a Dementor, Pansy, then I fear Dru might have met one."

Pansy rolled her eyes at her. "Really? You don't say?"

"Come off it! She's clearly in shock and pain!"

"Ya know how she is, Daph!" Pansy grimaced at her friend. "She won't say a word to us, so all we can do is watch out for her and, and, whatever it is. We can't push her or she'll never spill it!"

Daphne scowled, crossing her arms as she stared at Dru. As she worried her lip, she couldn't help but feel so frustrated at how stubborn their friend was. She was never one to share, especially with those closest to her. Daphne feared it would one day lead her down a dark and lonely road, leaving her and Pansy and Blaise and even Theo behind.

"No!" Daphne stated. "Not again! Not like last year, Pans. She needs us, whether she likes it or not. Besides, Merlin forbids I have to pen to her mother this year about her woes."

"You wouldn't!"

"I most certainly would! Now get your feet off my skirt before I hex you at the Feast!"

"Merlin! No need to be so prissy, yeah?"

* * *

Dru woke when she felt the train sputter to a stop. Her sleepy eyes blinked at the sight of Daphne and Pansy, in their Hogwarts uniforms, gathering their items from the compartment. Her whole body felt as heavy as lead, weighing her down to sink further into her seat. She didn't want to get up; she didn't want to face everyone. She closed her gray eyes, hoping to sleep on the train back to King's Station, away from the judgemental glares and hushed laughter.

"C'mon, Dru!" Pansy suddenly shouted, making Dru jump in surprise. "Up and at'em, sleepyhead!"

"We have to get off now, love, otherwise we'll head back to London," Daphne said, fixing her necklace and pressing her robes.

Dru groaned. "I don't want to get up..." Suddenly, she yelped. "Hey! Don't electrocute me you bugger!"

Pansy shrugged. "Move it."

Dru glared at her friend as she stood, stretching from her nap. Quickly, they gathered their things and exited the train, heading for the carriages that would take them to Hogwarts. The whole ride back, as she sat with the girls and Blaise and Theo, she remained quiet, looking out the window at the dark woods and scenery before her.

She felt so drained, so tired, from her encounter. She didn't want to bother with the Feat, hoping she could sneak off to her new room to settle in early. Merlin knows how long the girls will stay up chatting and prattling about the cute blokes they saw. Millie and Tracey alone were loud with their squeals and laughter. Add Pansy's shouting and Daphne's sighs of disapproval and there goes her chance at sleep.

Her plan almost worked, but Professor McGonagall, the Transfiguration professor as long as the Deputy Headmistress and Head of Gryffindor, stopped her just before she excused herself to her room.

"Ms. Malfoy, if you may as kind as to follow me to my office."

Dru barely held in her groan of annoyance as she bid farewell to the girls and trolled after the stern woman, her steps heavy. Professor McGonagall looked back at the trailing girl with a frown, well, more of a frown then usual at the sight of the girl's tiredness and deep grimace.

Dru sighed as she entered the office. She collapsed on the chair, leaning back as she closed her eyes. She heard Professor cough. Slowly, her eyes blinked open to see the Deputy Headmistress with Madam Pomfrey quickly walking over to her.

"My dear! You look simply awful!" She gasped, immediately fussing over the girl. Dru curled her lips at the poking and prodding, but let the woman continue her assessment, too tired to snap at her complete disregard for personal boundaries. Instead, she looked to Professor McGonagall.

"May I help you with some, Professor?"

"Well, yes, Ms. Malfoy. I have been told you also had an... _encounter_... with a dementor during the train to Hogwarts, yes?"

Dru frowned. "Yes? And that concerns you...?"

Professor McGonagall sat in her chair, ignoring Dru's snarkiness. "Well, Madam Pomfrey will take care of you and help you with the side-effects from such a meeting with those awful creatures. As for me, I must inform your parents of your encounter and assure them that you are well."

"No need, Professor," Dru said, waving the strange brown bar being shoved in her face by Madam Pomfrey. "Do not worry my mother and father over something as trivial as this. I'm quite fine, actually."

Madam Pomfrey tutted in disagreement, breaking a piece of the bar and placing it in her hand. "Hotchpotch, dear. Professor Lupin said he gave you a piece of chocolate afterward, but it seems she didn't consume it. Have some now, dear, and you'll feel much better!"

Dru sighed, before biting into the piece. She didn't enjoy the taste of the sweet, but she chewed it regardless.

"I will respect your wishes, Ms. Malfoy," Dru chuckled to herself, seeing as how the woman didn't quite _enjoy_ the company of the Malfoys, or any purebloods for that matter. Didn't matter to Dru now, seeing as it's for her benefit. "But it's in my duty to tell you that these dementors will remain on the premise for the remaining year, or until Sirius Black is caught. Please take care to avoid them."

"Yes, Professor." Dru drawled, standing up to leave.

"And Ms. Malfoy!" Dru turned to the woman as she placed her spectacles on her nose, her face as sharp and stern as ever. "If you wish, you may retire early to your dormitory. I will have a Slytherin Prefect speak with you about the announcements from the Feast, shall your friends forget."

Dru nodded briskly before quickly leaving the suffocating room. If anything, Dru hated being smothered and bothered by dotting adults and students alike She just wanted to be left alone for Merlin's sake! Let her catch a wink in her four-poster bed and maybe she'll be a bit chipper for a chat.

And that's exactly what Dru did that night. She was asleep by the time her friends returned, sleeping dreamlessly for the whole night.

* * *

The morning came, and Dru looked over her class schedule as she munched on a muffin. It seemed she had Armithmancy this morning, and then Care for Magical Creatures in the afternoon-a class somewhat interesting and another that has the goal to maim or murder her, whichever comes first. It seemed she wasn't the only one not looking forward to the first day of classes, Dru thought to herself as she saw Pansy banging her head on the table and Theo blankly staring at the time table. Blaise and Daphne were much better off, quietly chatting as they munched on their toast and jam.

"I just don't know if I could do it, Dru," Pansy whined, loudly chewing on her bacon. "I mean, why did you tell me to take Armithmancy with you and Daph! I'd rather look into some crystal ball and tell some poor sucker he's dead than even _look_ at stupid numbers."

Dru rolled her eyes. "Because no one you liked was taking Divination. And Merlin forbids you to have to be in extra classes with Goyle and Crabbe drooling all over you, as you droned on about last year."

"Ugh, I do not need to see their stupid faces in the morning too."

Dru chuckled as she dug into her eggs and fried tomatoes. "So cheer up or shut up, love."

"Honestly Dru," Daphne chitted, lightly nudging her shoulder. "Why must you be so crass like Pansy."

"Oh, she's just taking up my charm and charisma," Pansy replied, furiously adding butter to her roll.

"More like she's being further corrupted."

"Don't be so miffy that we have more fun than you, _Mum_!"

"I do have fun! ... Sometimes..."

Dru felt that the laughter around the table was a good omen for the rest of the day, but who was she to believe in trivial things like that? She was a woman of facts, actions, and experience. And from her horrid luck in the past would show, the day would, in fact, be terrible and awfully no good.

* * *

Dru hated fulfilling her prophecies, but it seemed she could never avoid it.

The morning class was fine enough. Professor Vector was a less severe, but equally strict and observant, version of Professor McGonagall. She insisted on keeping to the timelines she handing at the beginning of class, down to the last minute of how long her introduction speech, the brief lesson, and the amount of time the class had to work on the questions about the lesson.

It was boring, but the routine was nice for Dru. She had control over what she would do in the class, unlike the uncontrollable and frivolous escapades in Defense Against the Dark Arts and Herbology. She easily finished the assignment, looking to Hermione Granger to just completing hers. She rolled her eyes as she watched the Gryffindor stroll up to the Professor to ask for more reading regarding the subject. Dru never saw herself as that type of learner. She preferred to master what is necessary, and to save her leftover energy into observance and actual action regarding the subject. The theory was too boring for her most of the time, but Granger soaked up reading the musty and worn books in the library.

She looked over to Pansy, who was biting her lip in deep concentration as she tried to complete the assignment before class ended. Daphne, on the other hand, was finished. She was instead perusing through the latest copy of _Witch Weekly_.

The class ended soon enough with Pansy nudging Dru away from her stupor of thought. Silently, she followed her friends to their Charms class. That class passed just as quickly with Professor Flitwick's same introduction speech, and a review of mastered charms from the previous year. Dru paired with Blaise as their languidly casted charms over objects, chatting occasionally. She noticed how he often looked over to Daphne, who was paired with Pansy.

Lunch was as entertaining as ever with Pansy and Blaise arguing over something trivial, Theo snoring on the table, and Daphne reading a novel Dru had loaned her. Dru didn't feel a need to speak, instead thoughtfully chewing her sandwich and sipping her pumpkin juice as she considered what Quidditch year will bring her.

This year, this year was the chance to _finally_ show Harry that she was just as talented, if not superior, like him. She trained, she memorized the playbook, and she had a thirst to decimate him on the Pitch. She wanted to shove the Snitch in his smug face, and the faces of the whole Gryffindor team. She even wanted to shove it up to stupid Marcus Flint's face. Dru couldn't have been more ecstatic that it was his final year at Hogwarts. He was supposed to graduate last year, but Dru figured he was simply too stupid to pass any of his classes. She saw it too, as she looked over to him farther down the Slytherin table. All of his friends had graduated, leaving him behind. She saw him chatting up to the beaters on their team, the only ones closest in age to him.

Dru didn't feel pity for the boy; she just felt embarrassed for him.

But a thought occurred to her as she looked at the boy. Was Harry Potter embarrassed by her?

She noticed how he largely ignored her as Weasley and Granger sneered at her back on the Hogwarts Express. He wasn't outrightly vile towards her as the year before, but he certainly didn't stand up for her either. He was, once again, in his stupidly neutral position like the beginning of the first year. It was much like how she met him in Madam Malkin's- he was a shy boy who let her prattle on about Quidditch and couldn't stop blushing at his lack of Wizard knowledge. But, what was even worse, he knew. He knew that they were on better terms, yet he didn't seem to further the message alone to Weasley and Granger.

Did he even care to be her friend, or at least at peace with her? It bothered Dru. And it bothered even more because she had Care of Magical Creatures next with him.

And that's where her luck ran out of the day.

She walked with Daphne and Pansy towards their class, silent as the girls gossiped over how the Gamekeeper troll would murder them today. It was annoying, to say the least, seeing as how he was too stupid and blubbery to even try to kill them, but Dru used it to think more to herself about her situation with Potter. Would it even qualify as a "situation"?

"Well!" The Gameskeeper's, Hagrid, booming voice shook Dru out of her thoughts as she looked to him. He stuttered and mumbled through his introduction speech before finally addressing the troll in the room-the monster books.

"No one has even been able to open these bloody books!" Blaise sneered, disdainfully glaring at his. It was currently trying to munch on his sleeve.

Hagrid looked embarrassed, before quickly demonstrating how to open them with Granger's book, who was looking smug at the glaring Slytherins.

"Right then! I thought terday would be as good as any te meet some magical creatures, eh?" He motioned to the corral behind him, before whistling. After a brief pause, Theo, Crabbe, and Goyle were snickering. Nothing had happened. The Gameskeeper frowned before whistling again. Finally, a small herd of the most bizarre yet strangely elegant creatures Dru had ever seen appeared before the class.

They had the bodies, hind legs, and tails of horses, but the front legs, wings, and heads of what seemed to be birds-eagles. Their sharp, steel-colored beaks, half-foot long talons, and large, brilliantly orange eyes left Dru cautious and anxious around these giant creatures. Each of the beasts had a thick leather collar around its neck, which was attached to a long chain that was wrapped over their back or attached to another creature.

Hippogriffs. They were bloody hippogriffs!

"Gee up, there!" he roared. He had entered the paddock and snatched several of the chains. As he shook the chains and shooed the hippogriffs towards the class, Dru immediately drew away from the dangerous beasts. Placing Crabbe and Goyle and even Theo in front of her, she felt much more at ease with the rather large boys in front of her. The bird-horses couldn't reach her there with this wall of flesh in front of her.

"Hippogriffs!" Hagrid cheered happily, waving a hand at them. "Beau'iful, aren' they?"

"First the book, now he wants to murder us with those _things_!" Pansy shrilled to Dru, gripping her arm rather tightly. Dru swallowed, nodding her nervously. Dru wasn't one to be nervous, but how the creatures orange eyes just _stared_ at her so intensely shook her to the core. She was terrified.

"So,' said Hagrid, rubbing his hands together and beaming around, 'if yeh wan' ter come a bit nearer ...'

No one stepped forward. Dru stepped farther away. But of course, Harry Potter was the one to step forward with his two friends.

"Now, firs' thing yeh gotta know abou' Hippogriffs is they're proud,' said Hagrid. 'Easily offended, Hippogriffs are. Don't never insult one, 'cause it might be the last thing yeh do."

Dru could hardly hear what the loud man was saying thanks to Crabbe and Goyle conspiring on how best to spook the beasts. She groaned to herself as she stepped closer to hear the lesson. She would prefer to _not_ be mutilated today.

"Yeh always wait fer the Hippogriff ter make the firs' move,' Hagrid continued. 'It's polite, see? Yeh walk towards him, and yeh bow, an' yeh wait. If he bows back, yeh're allowed ter touch him. If he doesn' bow, then get away from him sharpish, 'cause those talons hurt." Hagrid continued, his beard and hair shaking as he talked.

"Right— who wants ter go first?"

No one stepped forward. Silence filled the class as they nervously eyed the hippogriffs.

"No one?"

"I'll do it." Harry Potter abruptly said, wincing at his words.

Dru balked at the idiot as he climbed over the paddock fence, joining Hagrid. The man was shouting praises at his courage before steering him over to a grey hippogriff. As she thought it over, she became more and more annoyed at the boy. Of course, _he_ would do anything to garner attention and praise. He still was the same Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived. He needed to bask in this otherwise his image would fade, and he couldn't have that.

Harry bowed before the hippogriff as it haughtily stared him down. Moments passed, and the creature refused to bow. It seemed she wasn't the only one who saw the arrogance in the boy. But just as Hagrid was telling Harry to back away, the hippogriff bowed! The class gasped in amazement before quickly applauding him as he petted the creature's beak. Dru was fuming to herself, and it seemed several Slytherins were tutting their chins at him.

"Righ' then, Harry," said Hagrid, "I reckon he migh' let yeh ride him!"

Suddenly, Hagrid threw Harry onto the hippogriff. It crowed in response, prancing its feet at the thought of someone even touching his back. Still, Harry held tightly as their teacher slapped the hind, yelling at him to go on.

Harry Potter, much like the first year, suddenly took to the air.

The flight itself was short, but it still left the whole class riveting in shock and disbelief. As soon as the boy touched the ground again, the Gryffindors ran towards the paddock fence, loudly cheering for their housemate. Harry's hair was fluffier and frizzier than before, and his face was flushing from the fast speeds and attention. But his appearance didn't deter Dru's annoyance. He was obviously enjoying the praises singing from his housemates' lips, but he just knew how to hide it.

It was at this moment that Dru wondered why she had decided to be on neutral terms with him. He needs _someone_ to show him he's not exactly Merlin-incarnate. She gladly stayed with the Slytherins who were sneering at the boy.

As Hagrid boomed that he had done an excellent job and awarded him ten points for his bravery, he ordered the class to follow his approach and interact with the other hippogriffs.

"No more than four of ya ter a hippogriff! Don' want them riled up, yeh?"

Dru quickly made her way over to Daphne, Pansy, Blaise, and Theo, wondering who would be the unlucky one out. But as she finally reached her friends, she realized that it was her. They were already paired with a beautiful roan-colored hippogriff. Theo was nervously approaching it before throwing his torse over himself in the most awkward and terrifying bow. Unsurprisingly, the hippogriff cawed in response at his sudden movement, his forelegs prancing. Somehow, by bloody Merlin, the thing bowed to Theodore Nott of _all_ bloody people.

She looked around, seeing everyone in groups of four or three. She saw Harry's group only had three, but Weasley's pathetic glare alone was warranted enough to not even bother herself with them. Only the two most idiotic, daftest, and stupidest boils were left: Crabbe and Goyle.

They had taken over Harry's hippogriff, Buckbeak. Not paying attention to Hagrid's lecture, they were jeering and joking about the dangerous beast _in fron__t_ of the dangerous beast. Dru wisely placed herself behind Crabbe, hoping that the beast's talons would slice through him first before her.

"Honestly!" Crabbe sneered, "This is bloody stupid. Look at him! He's more stupid than beast I'd reckon. I bet you're not dangerous at all, are you?" He said to the Hippogriff. "Are you, you ugly great brute?"

"Aye! Watch out-!"

And in a great flash of steely talons, Dru found herself crying in pain and clutching her arm tightly to her chest as she laid on the ground. Somehow, the boy who nearly triples her weight had _dodged_ the beast's talons, leaving Dru defenseless and crying in pain. She saw the blood seeping through her robes, nearly passing out at the sight.

Dru heard Crabbe and Goyle yelling for the giant-man and Daphne gasping in shock. The whole class panicked as she kept crying in pain, biting her lip so hard she tasted blood.

"She's dying!" Goyle yelled, pacing back-and-forth. Crabbe stood shell-shocked, but deeply pale at the blood pooling on the ground. "She's dying, just look at her! It killed her!"

"She's not dyin'!" barked Hagrid. His face, pale as Crabbe's, stated otherwise.

Hermione Granger ran to the gate latch, opening the gate as Hagrid picked up Dru in his arms. As he ran up the hill, Dru found her stomach very, very, very upset at the _smell_ of her own bloody blood! Merlin! Would she ever have a break at this school! Honestly, what a horrible, utterly horrible, first day of school.

* * *

As Dru laid in her bed with Madam Pomfrey worrying over her arm, Dru wondered how she was in the woman's care in just the two days alone she had been back.

If anything, this was reason enough for Father to pull her out of school. The thought alone stung her stomach more than the potion Madam Pomfrey had dressed over her cut, now a bandaged arm slung to her chest. Even though the terrible, terrible events from the previous year were entirely his crafting, he could easily blame the school for incompetence and obvious disregard towards the welfare of their students with the actions from the past two days alone. He could even take them to court!

It left a bitter taste in Dru's mouth. Father had always preferred for her to be tutored at home under his careful eye, but Mother had persuaded him otherwise, arguing that they both enjoyed their time at Hogwarts and that Druella would surely make the Slytherin house proud. And that she did! She was the seeker for their Quidditch team and second in their year! She was a bloody great student and an even better friend. She would not let Father take this away from her.

Even if it meant allowing those two boils free from reprimand. She was currently hanging onto the idea that Slytherins are loyal to their own as the reason why she wasn't asking Theo and Pansy to bloody hex them-though she's positive they did by this point.

No, she had told Madam Pomfrey that she was irresponsible and had ignored the giant man's instructions on how to handle the beast. When Professor Snape and Deputy Headmistress McGonagall came to further question the events, she saw their disbelief in her story. Snape, however, let it slide, probably seeing it as an act to save a fellow Slytherin. Still, it stung just as deeply to see them write to her parents, stating of the accident that had occurred. Surely, Father would have either the man fired or the beast executed-most likely both.

But Dru couldn't worry about that. All she cared for was how quickly her arm would heal and how it would prevent her from playing Quidditch this year. She was facing Gryffindor first; she would finally have her rematch against Harry. But, if her arm wasn't well enough to fly by then... Dru didn't even want to _think_ about the implications.

"Well, dear," Madam Pomfrey finally said, admiring her handiwork with the bandages. "The cut itself should be healed by tomorrow morning. I recommend you wear the sling for a few days at best. Try not to place too much strain on it, dear. Come see me in two days, and I'll check for bruising and infection. If it feels wrong at all dear, please come see me right away!"

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey." She quietly said, her eyes suddenly droopy. "Thank-you..."

Madam Pomfrey chuckled. "I see the pain potion is working well. Rest well dear. Dinner will be brought up later tonight."

And the woman left Dru to a sleepless dream, her arms twitching every so often.

* * *

Dru slept through dinner and woke late into the night. She saw the moon cast light through the wing's grand windows, fuzzy through his tired eyes. Apparently, the pain potion has a side-effect of deep drowsiness and lethargy last several hours to Dru's dismay. It left her anxious and nervous as she tried to blink herself alert.

She looked around, sitting up in her bed. She saw a single cup on the table beside it. Snatching it with her left hand, Dru winced at its coldness as it touched her dry lips. Still, she greedily drank its content as her stomach growled in hunger. She looked around, but she didn't see any plate of food or even snacks. Food would have to wait until the morning, leaving Dru grouchy and annoyed.

She saw her bookbag laid beside her with her wand on the tableside. Dru ruffled through her bag. Her fingers pulled out the current novel she was reading, happily turning on the lamp. She wouldn't let herself fall asleep again, fearing she would miss breakfast as well. So, she would pass the time by reading more into the perilous lives that were the founders of Hogwarts'.

An hour passed without disturbance as Dru happily read. Suddenly, in the corner of her left eye, she saw movement.

Dru looked up. Her grey eyes stared intently into the corner where she had sworn she had seen movement. Nothing moved as a minute passed, leaving Dru sighing in relief. Her dominant arm was injured leaving her essentially defenseless if she relied on her wand. Even more so if she were to fight as she still found her eye's watering because of the potion's lethargic side-effects.

But then she saw a figure of black move between two empty beds farther down the hall. It wasn't any taller than the bed, and no longer than half a bed's length. She swore she saw a tail waving behind the figure.

Dru gasped as she saw it move closer to her. Finally, she saw its eyes. Bright grey eyes, just like hers. It was a large dog with shaggy and matted hair. Its bones jutted out of his figure, their angles harsh and unpleasant. It was as hollowed out as it was black as night. She saw its mouth open, breathing heavily as it stared at her, Its teeth were yellow and sharp. It left out a growl as it stalked forward...

She reached for her wand, pointing it towards the creature. She was shaking. Her left arm quivered as she blinked again, believing what she was seeing was not real. Why was there a bloody big dog in the Infirmary!

Words couldn't leave her suddenly dry mouth. She was stuck in her bed in pain and fear. It walked closer to her, its paws padding softly on the floor. Dru felt tears rushing out of her as the fear and terror overwhelmed her. She didn't know what she was seeing. She didn't know what was real or not. She was afraid of what she didn't know, of what she couldn't control. Her heart thudded so loudly and so profoundly against her chest that it ached. Was it real or was she still dreaming?

"Druella! Druella, dear!"

Dru snapped to see a worried Madam Pomfrey rushing to her. She quickly looked back to where the black dog was and gasped when it was gone.

"Druella! Breathe, my dear!" The matron fretted over the girl as suddenly noise escaped her chest. Her breathing was wretched and gaspy. Tears fell out of her eyes and terror fled from her chest. "Dear Merlin! What happened? Did you have a night terror, love?"

Dru couldn't answer at first. As Madam Pomfrey stroke her back, much like how Mother or Dobby did whenever she had night terrors past, she felt her chest loosening. She could breathe. She could speak. She was okay. She was alright. She was safe. It wasn't really. She was seeing things. She was alright. She was bloody fine!

"There... There was a dog." She hoarsely whispered, the words rough against her dry thought. "A black dog..."

"Dear, there was no one here. Are you sure you saw a black dog?"

Dru didn't answer, breathing deeply as Madam Pomfrey continued to stroke her back gently. The old woman soon left the girl, tucking her into her bed. She was gone for a moment, before quickly returning another hot cup of tea. Dru greedily drank it, enjoying the sweet taste of honey and lavender. She found herself relaxing, her chest loosening further, as she drank its entirety.

"I brewed you a peace drought, mixed with some lavender to help you sleep. All is well, Druella. Sleep well, my dear. You're safe..."

Dru didn't hear the rest of the words as she fell into another deep sleep. This time, she was as still as death.

When she awoke to the sun's bright rays harshly warming her face, Dru's memory of last night was blurry at best. She'd remember a black dog and the penetrating fear that gripped her heart, but she couldn't remember what she did or how it went away. Madam Pomfrey had told her she was in hysterics. That she was crying and shaking "so frightfully I though you best be hexed, my dear!" Dru couldn't understand why a dog could instill such fear into her. She loved dogs even!

She couldn't put her finger on it. She couldn't grasp why the sight alone left her a quivering, crying mess.

But, as she later at her breakfast, she overheard Madam Pomfrey speak quietly with Professor McGonagall.

"Minerva! The girl said she saw a black dog!"

"Yes, Poppy, you have told me this already. But you honestly cannot believe that she actually saw the _Grim_—_"_

"Why else would the girl be so frightened? It had to be!"

Professor McGonagall huffed. "Poppy, please, the poor girl does not need a death omen following her around. Sybil had already told Harry Potter he had the Grim! We simply cannot have _two_ students with death omens. It's utterly ridiculous!"

"Then it would haunt the grounds no less, following the stench of death that follows Sirius Black, no doubt."

"Poppy! Just watch over the girl, yes? Do not feed any more silly nonsense into this idea. I will let Albus know of what she saw and have him investigate further if he so wishes, but that is the end of it. Merlin forbid the girl's _parents_ must be contacted!"

Madam Pomfrey sighed. "Yes, Minerva. I will inform you of her condition at lunch. She should be well by then to return to class."

"Very well, Poppy."

And the door closed, leaving Dru in a whirl of thoughts and worry. She would just need to speak to Harry Potter about this supposed Grim later and why everyone seemed so frightened of it, including one of the most stoic women she had ever met. But first, she needed to get out of this bloody bed and make it to her double Potions class. She feared Professor Snape's sneer of disproval more than anything.

* * *

She didn't appear in the Potions class until well into it. She handed her note from Madam Pomfrey to Professor Snape. With a brief nod, she rushed over to the only seat available: the old stool beside a Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter. Dru sat beside Harry, avoiding his blatant staring at her bandaged arm.

Like Madam Pomfrey had said, the cut healed through the night, but it seemed Dru didn't react too well to the pain potion she had also given her. Dru found her arm very sore and tender, with a deep bruise still inflamed where the cut was. The matron had placed a different kind of salve on the bruise, saying it should be better by the evening meal, but all Dru felt was a subtle sting. It wasn't unbearable, but it was certainly sensitive and tingly. Something she found herself growing ire of as Harry and Ron wouldn't stop staring at it.

"Shove off you two!" She hissed, before quickly opening her book with her left hand. The shrinking potion was tedious at best with two hands, let alone impossible with one hand. She glanced over to Weasley's potion, an ugly green that seemed a bit too thick for the potion. Harry wasn't doing much better; his potion was awfully bright, almost clear in its viscosity.

"Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter, please help Ms. Malfoy with the preparation of her ingredients if you would be so kind." Professor Snape suddenly said, his orders drawling to a closed sneer. Dru saw the boys flinch at his words, but didn't move to chop her ingredients. "Did I stutter?"

Immediately, Weasley flew to the cupboard to gather the ingredients while Harry began to prepare the cauldron for Dru.

Smirking, Dru said to Harry, "I think it's quite not center over the flame, Harry."

"Then do it yourself, Dru," Harry said, fuming as he moved the cauldron over a centimeter to the left.

"I would, but you are just awfully better at doing it."

Harry rolled his eyes, returning to his seat. "Whatever, Dru."

Dru looked around. Weasley was still collecting ingredients while Snape chastised him for making a mess of his cupboard. Neville Longbottom was pleading for Hermione Granger to help him save his potion whilst Crabbe and Goyle snickered at the boy's whines.

Dru ducked her head closer to Harry. "I have something to ask you, Harry."

"I don't have time for this."

"Simple yes or no will suffice."

Harry glared at her before harshly whispering, "Well?"

"You have seen the Grim, yes or no?"

Harry flinched at the words. He pushed himself away from Dru as his face paled considerably. Just as quickly as the fear flashed in his eyes, it morphed into anger. He lashed out at her. "I don't have time for your stupid games, Malfoy!"

"Mr. Potter! No speaking!" Professor Snape barked from his desk, hardly looking up from his paperwork.

Weasley finally returned to Dru, angrily plopping all the ingredients as he grumbled, "Happy, your highness?"

Dru preened. "I will be once you begin cutting the mushrooms into bits, yes?"

"_Snake_."

"_Weasel_."

"Mr. Weasley! Five points from Gryffindor."

Dru sneered at the red-head as he grumbled his curses on his breath as he cut the ingredients, rather choppily and disproportionate if you would ask Dru. Still, by the end of class, Dru had one of the best-shrinking potions in the class no doubt to her patience and diligence. Whilst Longbottom, who did manage to save his potion no thanks to Granger, nearly fainted when Professor Snape glared at him and took five points from Gryffindor.

She couldn't find Harry for the rest of the day, or the days that followed either. It seemed as if he avoided her by whatever means necessary. It left Dru wondering just what did he see. Did he see the Grim, like her, and what did it mean? Besides, why would simply hearing the words bring such fear into his eyes?

Dru wanted to know.

* * *

The rest of the month that followed was dreadful and boring. Dru enjoyed the majority of her classes, with Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms being her favorite. Surprisingly, she enjoyed the new Professor Lupin. He was as clever as he was witty, easily drawing laughs from the stingiest of Slytherins. He seemed to be a bit biased towards Dru and her housemates, easily quick to admonish Crabbe, Goyle and Theo's antics. Still, he rewarded them no less, especially with Dru's knowledge and Pansy's brilliance with mastering spells, especially the dueling ones.

While the class with the bogart was far from her favorite, having seen the Grim all the more again, she still enjoyed it nevertheless.

Magical Care for Creatures became a bore and a drag after the incident. Afraid of injuring another student, the giant-man left the class with the care of the especially boring and slimy flobberworms and other small creatures. It was by far the most annoying class, maybe even more so than Herbology. Potions were all and well, but it seemed Professor Snape grew harsher with Neville Longbottom after having heard of the boggart of him dressed in the boy's disgraceful clothing styles. Arithmancy was interesting to Dru, but she found it to be mostly busy work and theory rather than application.

But as the October chill came late into the month, so did the start of Quidditch practice or the lack thereof for Dru.

Dru's arm had fully healed by the hippogriff incident, leaving a wicked scar behind as some kind of trophy. She still caught first-years admiring it whenever she pulled up her robe sleeves. She wasn't _too_ impressed with it. Instead, a bubble of annoyance popped up every time she caught a glimpse of the angry red skin. Mother was far from thrilled of Madam Pomfrey's report of the healing. Dru would feel bad for the howler she had sent, but the matron didn't give it a second glimpse, going as far as to incinerate it before it could utter a full sentence in her mother's velvet voice. A small grin found its way on her lips as she did so; Dru shared that same sentiment.

Still, Dru couldn't care much else for the scar. She could play Quidditch. She had a chance to demolish Potter and show him once and for all she was a fine seeker.

But it seemed Marcus Flint, the ever-sneering captain of the Slytherin team, had other plans.

"What do you mean we need to call off the match?!" Dru shrieked, her grey eyes blazing as she glared up at the boy.

"Your arm isn't healed fully, and we haven't been able to find a seeker replacement." Marcus Flint repeated, his voice coming to a nasty drawl as he continued his way to the Pitch, towards the practicing Gryffindor team. Dru quickly stepped in front of him, shoving a pointed finger in his chest.

"Don't be a bloody wanker, Flint! I am fine enough to play, so don't you _even dare_ think about sitting me out."

Marcus groaned. He pulled her closer to him. She felt his hot breath in her ear, and instantly she recoiled. It was vile and loathsome. Dru wanted to push away. He was too close, overwhelming her with his pungent odor. She couldn't though; his grip was too tight. It was bruising her. She didn't want this. Dru didn't want this. Why wouldn't he let her go?!

"Don't mess this up for me, you slag!" He threatened his voice sending waves of anger pulsing through Dru's body. Spit decorated her face but seemed to burn off at how flushed she became. Her body was broiling, her anger threatening to bubble over in ways she knew would expel her. "We can't win right now, so go whine about your arm and we have more time to practice. You got it?!"

Dru finally broke away from her captain. "Get your bloody _disgusting_ hands off me, you wanker!" She held her right arm. It was already bruising from how tight he held on it. It was puffing up quite a bit too, turning into angry shades of red and blue. It matched Dru's tearful face. When did she start crying?

"Play along, or I will really put you on the sidelines, _Druella_."

Dru was about to retort but was cut off by Oliver Wood, Gryffindor captain.

"What's this, Flint? Why are you on our Pitch?" He demanded, puffing his chest as his teammates stood in solidarity behind him.

Flint rolled his eyes before shoving a piece of paper into his face. "Came to tell ya you'll be playing Hufflepuff come next match. Our seeker is still healing from her injuries and there isn't a replacement, yeah?"

"You're lying!" Alicia Spinnet cried in protest. Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell yelled their agreements as Harry Potter sent a deadly glare Dru's way. She refused to look at him, at any of the time. She held her arm close to her, a pulsing pain arising in her forearm. She kept her head down, holding her breath. The tears slowed upon her face.

"Doesn't matter. It's been signed off by Madam Hooch and Professor Snape. Now, we'll let you get back to your little practice. Maybe try actually putting the Quaffle into the hoops, yeah?"

Suddenly, Oliver Wood rushed forward towards his rival, his right arm arcing to throw a hook. But the Weasel twins held him back. Flint snatched Dru's right arm again, drawing a cry of pain as he dragged her off the field and back toward's the castle. She forced herself free again before running ahead, away from the shouting, yelling, and the horrible, horrible scent of Marcus Flint.

She made her way to the Infirmary where Madam Pomfrey was too displeased about seeing her back so quickly. When Dru showed her arm, the woman gasped.

"Now what happened to ya, my dear?"

Dru shrugged; her tears had dried from the harsh wind.

Madam Pomfrey sighed but quickly went to work of enchanting cooling bandages around the swelling bruise. It seemed Flint held too tight when she broke her arm free. Her cut opened up in some places, forcing the matron to place more slaves underneath the bandages after a brief time. Dru remained silent, stoically staring out the window. She could see the Pitch from there. She saw small dots in the sky. She wondered if Harry Potter thought of her as a coward.

She would.

"All better, dear. I decided not to fully heal it or use the pain potions seeing as how you reacted poorly to them last. Please be more careful, yes love?"

Dru nodded, sliding down the bed as she quietly walked out of the hall. She didn't catch the concerned glance Madam Pomfrey wore as she worried her lip. She would need to speak to Minerva about this surely. The bruise was the shape of a hand, leaving the woman all the more worried about how this happened to the poor girl.

It seemed this wasn't Druella Malfoy's year. Dru would whole-heartedly agree.

* * *

The Hogsmeade trip came, but Dru couldn't find herself getting out of bed to join her friends. After she was banned from practice from the past week, Dru felt lost and alone. None of her teammates backed her up as she fought and argued to play in the upcoming match. It seemed they were too nervous about losing to _the_ Harry Potter, so they would rather postpone the inevitable. It left Dru all the more riled up as she felt the Gryffindor's harsh glares as she went to her classes.

She was typically immune to the occasional sneer or look of disgust as she passed, but to have a whole house vehemently glare at you was too much for the girl sometimes. They saw her as the weak and pathetic pureblood who cried to Daddy when something goes wrong. It left such a bitter taste in her tongue and stung to her very, very core. If Druella Malfoy was anything, she was a proud Slytherin who wouldn't let stupid, stupid Gryffindorks tell her what she was. She was a bloody Malfoy! And proud!

Still, Dru found it much easier if she had a friend or two as she walked to and fro classes. Pansy would threaten a hex while Daphne placed herself between the looks. Theo sent unpleasant messages their ways while Blaise joined Daphne at taking the lead. She felt safe with them; they were her real friends. But they weren't the types to do their homework in the library as she preferred.

The worst moment of the past week was when the Gryffindor chasers found her by herself in the library. She wasn't blind when Johnson cursed her inkpot to spill all over her robes; they hackled and snickered to themselves for being so sneaky and simply _brilliant_. Without a second thought, Dru easily sent them a stick-fast hex. She waved them goodbye as she passed, her robe flourishing behind. Dru couldn't help laughing at their frustrated cries and protest. It was a short-lived victory, seeing as how she passed Harry Potter in the halls not too long after.

He hardly gave her a kind glance as he shoved his way past her. Her books, parchments, and quill fell from her hurt hand. A small yelp gave way as a book's corner dragged its way into her tender skin. It seemed without Madam Pomfrey's fine spellwork, bruises took _weeks_ to completely heal; how utterly stupid that was.

Harry Potter turned around in surprise, eyes blinking owlishly. He stared at her as she tried to gather her books with one hand. His guilt soon ate him up, stomping reluctantly back over to her. Placing the Monster book into her hands, he stared at her.

"So... You weren't lying then. About your arm, I mean."

Dru snorted at his eloquence. "It was fine, then it wasn't."

Harry frowned, his brows furrowing. "Don't see how you can't play though."

"Tell that to that spineless, pathetic little cockroach named Marcus Flint." She fumed, her anger licking her lips and tightening her chest. It was raging and furious, leaving her gasping for breath and control. That stupid pig!

Harry balked at her sudden anger before considering her words. "You mean... Flint _made_ you—"

"Don't you even dare finish that thought." She hissed, staring into his green eyes. They were quite nice today, actually. She wondered what they would have looked in Slytherin robes. "Like I would ever tell you."

"Show me your arm then."

Dru rolled her eyes, slightly stunned by his boldness. "Excuse you?"

"Dru..."

"Ugh," She sneered. Placing her books into his arms, she rolled up her right sleeve. The bruise was a few days old at best, but it was still an awful yellow and purple colored. It wrapped around the underside of her forearm to the top in a sloppy crescent form, almost like a-

"Is, is that a _hand_—"

"Leave me alone, Harry. It's not like you to suddenly act like the concerned friend." She bitterly said. No, her real friends already frenzied over her bruise. When she told them Flint did it, they had to hold Pansy back from causing great harm to the captain. Daphne fretted over it while Theo and Blaise simply glared at it. Pansy and Blaise were able to get back at Flint, however. They hexed his mouth to produce slugs, much like the year before with Weasley. Flint was sent to the infirmary for the rest of the day, vomiting slugs to their delight.

Yet here was Harry Potter, only concerned when no Gryffindors or Slytherins were around. When no one was around actually, or at least people who _knew_ him and her.

"Come off it, Dru." He sighed. "You weren't exactly friendly either."

"At least I tried to be your friend, Harry. You weren't exactly forthcoming with Weasel and Granger now were you?"

"I don't exactly see Blaise, Theo, or even Pansy being chummy with me."

Dru let out a frustrated noise as she snatched all of her books back, stomping away from the infuriating boy. Her fists clenched so tightly around the covers one would think she would have lost all circulation to her fingers. Dru wasn't that stupid, of course, but she was pretty miffed at the moment.

"Don't be such a priss, Dru!"

And Harry Potter clearly had a death wish.

"Don't be such a wanker, Harry!"

"At least I'm not a lying snake!"

"At least I'm not a bumbling buffoon!"

"Shove off!"

"Bite me!"

And Dru turned into the next hall, leaving behind the stupid, stupid, _stupid_ boy.

* * *

She didn't tell her friends of her exchange with Harry Potter when they returned from Hogsmeade. Instead, she listened intently to their stories. From the amazing treats and butterbeer to the prank shop, it seemed Hogsmeade was other-worldly. Maybe Dru would go next time. It sounded quite nice, especially with her friends there.

She listened happily as they droned on about funny stories all through the Halloween feast. All was well until Headmaster Dumbledore summoned all students back to the Great hall shortly after the feast had officially ended.

"What's going?" Dru whispered to Blaise's ear.

He shrugged. "Know as much as you, love."

Dru felt her skin flush at the nickname, not used to others beside Daph and Pans from saying it. If you were to ask her, it was quite nice.

Pansy tugged tightly on her arm, pointing to the Gryffindors. "I think it has to do with bloody Potter again."

Dru looked to where she was pointing, seeing at the end was a very, very pale Harry and even queasier friends in tow. What bloody happened? They weren't even gone for twenty minutes at best!

She stood with the rest of the Slytherins, waiting in front of the entrance of the Great Hall. Dumbledore quietly stepped forward, clearing his voice as he addressed them:

"As it is my duty as your Headmaster, the safety of Hogwart's students and staff comes first. As such, I must tell you of dreadful news. Sirius Black has been sighted in the castle."

An immediate flurry of gasps and screams filled the student body. Dru found her stomach clenching in fear. Everything was suddenly sharper, clearer. She was terrified.

"Precautions must be taken tonight. You will all be sleeping at the Great Hall tonight. The Head Boy and Girl along with the other prefects will be placed in charge as the professors and I will search the castle for the man. You are instructed not to leave the Great Hall under no circumstances, yes?"

Silence.

"Very well. It appears to me you need sleeping arrangements lest you sleep on the floor, which I must say is rather good for one's back, yes?"

With a flurry of his hand, hundreds of sleeping bags appeared in the Great Hall, along with small pillows and extra blankets. Everyone, even Dru, gasped in astonishment at the sight of such power and precision.

Headmaster Dumbledore gave one final nod, before leaving the students.

Head Boy Weasley easily took his place as he ordered the students to find a sleeping bag and a place for the night. "Lights out in ten minutes!"

Dru rolled her eyes at the prickly Weasley boy before hurrying to snatch up a sleeping bag, a pillow, and a blanket. She pulled them towards a corner where she found the Slytherins to have come claimed. As she surveyed the room, it seemed each house claimed a corner, with few, if none, in the middle of the Great Hall, save for some prefects and professors. It seemed the majority were stationed by the door, sure to catch any students who would stupid enough to sneak off—like Harry Potter and his cult followers.

Dru couldn't care to converse with her friends. She tired and annoyed, missing her soft bed and even softer silk pajamas. Classes tomorrow best be canceled, or Dru will surely rip a new one to Headmaster Dumbledore. But knowing her luck, classes would remain scheduled. How dreadful her day has been.

* * *

Days past, and it seemed that the only thing the students could talk about was the rumors of Sirius Black in the castle. Whispered sightings and tall-tales spread like wildfire through the school. Some claim he killed thirteen men with one spell. Others say he killed each victim with his own bloody hands. Others say he won't stop until his hands have finally caught Harry Potter. That last one worries her the most, seeing as how her research over the summer revealed how close Sirius Black was to James Potter, Harry's father. Surely, he was still not brewing in revenge to seek out his former best friend's son too, to... _finish_ up the job?

It left Dru queasy and pale at the thought. Did Harry know what she did? Did she still owe him the truth, to spare this grim and tragic details about his already traumatizing past?

Dru decided no. Surely others have told him what she knew. Besides, why would he believe her now? They weren't friends anymore. Dru wondered if they were ever friends, to begin with, or if he was just using her and she was a blind puppy, following him around Diagon Alley.

Soon, the first Quidditch match came and Dru felt mixed feelings. Like all the other Slytherins, they cheered for Hufflepuff to win. But Dru found herself rather lax in the school spirit. As the storm rained on, Dru couldn't help but bitterly frown to herself. She and her team were supposed to be flying up there. She was supposed to be chasing for the Snitch, finally, besting Harry Potter.

But it seemed neither he would find the Snitch today.

The storm was terrible, leaving Dru to wonder why they hadn't rescheduled the match. She saw Harry struggle to listen and to see. It didn't surprise her, seeing as how he was blind without his glasses. With all of this rain and wind howling in his eyes, he was essentially blind and deaf. How could he ever find the Snitch?

But it seemed Hermione Granger was to the rescue. She saw the frizzy-haired girl run up to him after Oliver Wood called for a time-out. Dru watched her perform a spell, and the whole Gryffindor team cheered at her. The Slytherin rolled her _eyes_—_Honestly, Harry, you're luck would've run out forever ago if you didn't have a clever a girl as Hermione Granger._ The thought left Dru bristling to herself for acknowledging her academic rival's prowess when it came to magic. But even Dru wasn't daft enough to remain ignorant.

Shortly after the game reconvened, Dru saw, to her utter horror, a large group of dementors assemble onto the Pitch. It seemed the players were oblivious to their presence. Looking to two figures chasing each other, she saw the lighting electrify the sky, the Golden Snitch gleaming under its ferocity. The Hufflepuff seeker was in the lead of chasing it, furiously being pursued by Harry.

A blood-curdling scream ripped through the Pitch. To her utter horror, Harry Potter fell to his doom.

She closed her eyes tightly.

"Dru! Look!"

Dru opened her eyes to see a large group surrounding Harry. She heard gasps of reliefs of calls that he was alive. Dru even sighed deeply at the statement. Quickly after, the match was called finished with Hufflepuff winning thanks to Cedric Diggory, the amazingly gorgeous and talented seeker and captain of the Hufflepuff team, catching the Snitch right after Harry fell. While her house cheered at the announcement, Dru couldn't help but feel rage at the announcement. Someone fell from their broom! The conditions were poor and they were bloody _dementors_! This game should not have happened in the first place.

_Maybe then my friend wouldn't currently be being carried to the Hospital Wing._

Dru shook her head.

_That could've been me..._

Dru gasped in surprise. Marcus Flint, as stupid and awful and disgusting as he was, indirectly spared her the chance of being in Harry Potter's position.

She allowed Daphne to gently steer her back to the dormitory and fret over her—"Look at her Pansy! She's gone caught a cold, the stupid girl!"

Dru felt peace as they brought back a warm pot of tea and cups-lavender tea, her favorite. She smiled when they told funny stories of their childhoods or recalled silly incidents they shared. Dru laughed as they crowed at the memories. She forgot about Harry Potter, about how she could've fallen to her doom, and about the nothingness that seems to follow her now.

She felt content for the first night since that Halloween night.

* * *

The weekend passed slowly, leaving Dru feeling uneasy and restless. The stormy weather continued. A fog hung over the grounds and on the students' minds. Many were whispering that Slytherin was behind the dementors-"Why else would they not play?!" Dru laughed when she heard a group of fourth years gasping at the rumor; they shamelessly glared at her as she walked past them.

She couldn't care much for them. But for the pooling guilt and unrest in her gut, that she worried for.

It made her take the familiar route back to the Infirmary on the gloomy Sunday afternoon.

Dru couldn't figure out why she wanted to visit Harry. They weren't friends anymore, never were really in the first place. He was as self-righteous and arrogant as ever, thinking he best knew everything and everyone and every other detail in between. It was tiring to be on neutral terms with him. Her whole body weighed heavy as she gently steered her friends away from talking about him and his friends. Headaches came and went as she tried to discern what a look shared in the hall meant, or if he was really glaring at her or just pleasing his Gryffindor oafs.

Dru didn't even know if he was overthinking about this like she was. It seemed it was all she had been doing this whole year. Overthinking, worrying, and fretting had become regular pastimes for Dru. The nothingness followed close by, overwhelming her in every single possible way. It was as if her senses were drowning. She was trying to keep her head above the relentless current, but it was never enough.

And then there were the night terrors.

"Druella, my dear!" Madam Pomfrey cooed, smiling warmly at the small girl. "What brings you here? Is your arm still aching?"

Dru worried her lip, wondering if the matron could help her with the dreams, the restless nights that seemingly came from nowhere. She was so exhausted...

"I haven't been sleeping well as of late..." Dru quietly admitted, well-aware that Harry Potter would be eavesdropping. "Do you have anything to help with that?"

Madam Pomfrey tutted her lips as she walked over to her medicine cabinet. Pulling out a small, deep plum colored vial, she sighed. "One drop under the mouth thirty minutes before bed should do it, my dear."

Dru nodded, placing the vial in her bag.

"Tell me, Dru," the old matron questioned, her eyes so warm and so soft it left Dru wondering if this is what a grandmother's care felt like. "Is it night terrors, or restlessness?"

"Both, I suppose."

Madam Pomfrey nodded. Gently holding the girl's hand, she squeezed gently. Dru gave a small grin at the gesture. "Well, this should help, but the more you take it, the less effective it'll be. Come back if they're persisting, yes?"

Dru nodded. "Madam Pomfrey, may I see Harry before I leave?"

The matron snorted. "He should be sleeping, love, but I think he's woken up a bit ago. Not very sneaky, that stupid boy. Honestly! I think I see him more than my godchildren!"

Dru snickered at the kind lady, following her to Harry's bed. Of course, he was sleeping as she said, but he seemed too rigid with how he laid. He was very obviously awake and had been eavesdropping just as they suspected. Madam Pomfrey winked at the girl before leaving them be.

Dru approached the boy, before reaching over and pinching the back of his hand.

"_OW!_"

Dru snorted. "And the sleeping beauty awakens."

"That hurt!"

"Good. It was supposed to."

Harry rolled his eyes, sitting up. Placing his old and broken spectacles on his face, he glared at Dru. "What do _you_ want, Dru?"

Dru shrugged, sitting on the end of his bed. "Wanted to make sure your stupidity hadn't killed you yet before I had the chance of mercilessly destroying you at Quidditch."

"Well, you had your chance, but it seemed your whole team was too cowardly to do so."

Dru quietly fumed to herself, her jaw tightening at his words. "You don't possibly think that Slytherin was behind the dementors!" She looked at him, heart wavering. "...Do you?"

Harry groaned, holding his face in his hands as he dramatically sighed. "No, Dru, I don't."

Dru nodded. "Good. So not all of you are as stupid as I thought."

"Is that all you wanted?" He suddenly asked, his voice cutting through the air. "Wanted me to make you feel better about cowering out of the match?"

"Honestly, Harry!" She seethed. "I didn't realize you could become any dumber than Crabbe and Goyle."

"Well, what do you want, Dru?" Harry asked tightly, tired of the games the girl played. She was never straightforward, and it truly drove him mad.

"Maybe I wanted an apology?"

"An apology!" Harry sneered. "What did I bloody do to you now?! What problems are you blaming me for?"

Dru sighed as she pinched her nose, refusing to even look at him. Was he so much as incapable to offer a simple apology? Was his stupid ego so precious to him that he wouldn't dare to utter the words "I'm sorry" to her? If all of this grief and turmoil was the price to pay to be Harry Potter's friend, she didn't want to be friends with him anymore.

Briskly, she snatched her bag off the bed as she stood. Without so much as a second glance, she bid farewell to Harry Potter.

"Dru!" He suddenly called. She stopped. Why did she stop? It was just like earlier in the summer. He had stopped her, and she listened. Why did she always listen? "Stop running and talk to me, or are you too scared?"

Fury washed over Dru like never before, its anger and ferocity overwhelming her. Her heart thumped wildly as she turned to face him. She swore his eyes widen in fear as she approached him again. Good, the anger in her was terrifying her too.

"I am no coward, Harry Potter." She spat, adrenaline thundering through her veins.

Harry gulped, nodding. "Alright then."

Dru nodded too. "Good."

Silence.

"Now what exactly am I apologizing for?"

Dru rolled her eyes. "For being stupid, first of all. For being a bloody awful friend. And for being a git, too." She counted on her fingers, glaring ruthlessly at the boy.

Harry snorted. "You weren't exactly friendly either, Dru."

"Fine." She sighed, a headache coming on. "If we can't be friends, then we'll be neutral towards each other. A truce, if you will."

"Truce?"

"No more hexes, no more glares, no more names, and no more fighting. Keep a tab on your oafs and I'll keep a check on my housemates."

"You just said no more name-calling, Dru." Harry drawled, a snort escaping his lips.

"It's not a name if it's a fact, Harry."

"So, a truce then..." Harry nodded to himself. "Yes, I guess that should be fine."

Dru smirked. "Of course it would be! I'm not stupid."

"Shake on it?"

She firmly shook his hand, holding his gaze. She broke away first, smirking at him. "I'm not going easy on you with Quidditch, so don't come crying to me when I catch the Snitch."

"Good, because I don't have time to deal with a whining Dru when she loses, for the third time I would think."

"In your dreams, Potter!"

"S'not a dream if it already happened."

Dru bristled to herself, turning to leave the stupid boy. "Later, Boy Wonder."

"It's actually the 'Chosen One', thanks."

"More like the 'Hopelessly Stupid One.'" And Dru left her rival to his thoughts, somewhat appeased by what happened. Maybe now, he would learn that she wasn' just some Slytherin girl. She was Druella Lucia Malfoy, and he had every right to fear her. Everyone did, even her housemates and friends.

* * *

The rest of the term passed quickly and without interest. The sleeping potion Dru had been taking was a miracle. Never before had she slept so deeply and peacefully those weeks into mid-December. She was a bit chipper too when Hufflepuff had lost to Ravenclaw. At this point, if Slytherin won against Ravenclaw, they could win the House Cup. The thought of sweet victory made Dru fly faster and harder than ever before, taking to the Pitch almost every other evening. She forced her friends to come with her, playing mock matches and letting Snitch loose. Dru practiced her turns and loops, seeing that Harry particularly lacked in grace, but made up for it with his effort and speed.

All Dru had to do was outmaneuver him and the Snitch was hers. She was positive that she would do exactly come to the match next term.

Dru didn't care too much for studying for the final exams before Christmas break. She was as confident as ever, sure she would score near-perfect scores like always did. Instead, Dru worried about the upcoming Christmas break.

Unlike the past few years, her parents invited her back home for their annual Christmas celebration. It left Dru bewildered and anxious. She wouldn't put it past Mother to use it as a ploy to introduce Dru as a new bachelorette in the very small and prestigious pureblood world. The thought alone almost ruined her last weekend at Hogwarts, but Dru found herself looking forward to the Hogsmeade trip planned for that Saturday.

She would worry about on the train ride home. For now, she was just excited to see all her friends before the lonely weeks ahead.

They had made plans to visit every shop for their Christmas shopping before ending with tankards at The Three Broomsticks. It was a day that Dru knew she would be reliving when she was back at Malfoy Manor. Without Dobby to bring some holiday cheer, it would be lonely and cold. She couldn't the last time she had woken up to presents under the tree.

"Dru!" Pansy whined, tugging on the girl's arm as they made their walk towards Hogsmeade. "Stop _thinking_!"

Dru rolled her eyes, snorting a warm breath of air into the chilly winter mid-morning.

"Honestly, Dru," Theo smirked, walking closely to Pansy. "Surprised your face hasn't kissed the ground yet."

"Surprised your face isn't all brown for kissing up to Snape." She easily retorted, laughing along Blaise and Pansy as the tall boy growled.

"Dru!" Daphne admonished, but a breathy laugh still escaped.

Dru gave a careless shrug as she bundled tighter into her warm black coat. A beautiful emerald green scarf wrapped its way around her neck, covering the bottom half of her face and the top of her cream turtleneck. Her friends had teased her relentlessly for bundling up so much, but she couldn't care much for it. While she enjoyed the pleasantness of fall, the winter was too cold and bitter for her liking. It left her cheeks permanently red from the harsh win and nose runny.

The walk itself wasn't too long, leaving Dru to her thoughts as she tagged behind her four friends. They had seemed to couple off as Blaise and Daphne prattled on about some Muggle fashion they adored and Theo and Pansy were going off about some funny story. Dru found her stomach rolling in on itself when she realized she was alone. As she looked around, it seemed that everyone was pairing off. Even Longbottom was chatting up with a cheery Hufflepuff!

Dru scowled to herself, wondering why everyone seemed so interested in the trivials of romance. Valentine's Day wasn't even upon them, yet they were scurrying to find a partner for underneath the hidden mistletoes in the common rooms. Dru made sure to avoid them at all costs, too traumatized that she almost been caught in one with _Crabbe_ of all people.

The more she thought about her friends, the more she realized how close they had gotten over the past term. It seemed Theo was always teasing Pansy, giving the girl a wide smile almost every time she laughed. She knew Pansy always had a crush for Theo, but she never thought Theo would be capable of being romantic endeavors with how boyish and impish he acted. It made her happy for them, but also terribly lonely.

Then, there was Blaise and Daphne. The thought alone made the nothingness come closer. It suffocated her with a blanket of emotionless disconnect. She couldn't care for how they shared secret smiles when a sharp pain stabbed her stomach every time. She didn't understand why; she didn't want to.

As the day passed, doubt grew in Dru. She felt left behind as she followed them from store to store. So easily they paired off, forcing Dru to either walk-behind or go off on her own. It became so tiresome that she suddenly told them she was tired and was going to head to The Three Broomsticks early. Pansy gave a worried look, but the four bid her farewell, promising to see her later.

It seemed a weight was removed from her chest as she walked over to the pub. Warm greeted her as she stepped into the cozy place. It was beautifully decorated with lights, wreaths, and a tree in the far corner. Taking her place beside the tree, she greeted Madam Rosmerta, familiar from her last visit. She ordered a cup of tea, deciding that she would wait for the butterbeer to share with her friends. Pulling out the new book she had purchased from Tomes and Scrolls.

The rowdy didn't bother Dru's reading. It was a soft lull in the background as she read. It wasn't until she heard a disgusted snort that she looked up.

To her utter displeasure, she was greeted with the sight of a scowling Ronald Weasley, a sneering Hermione Granger, and a sighing Harry Potter.

"Of course, Hermione!" The red-head grumbled. "The table you pick is the one near the sneering snake."

Dru bristled at the disruption, glaring at Harry knowingly.

Harry coughed uncomfortably. "C'mon, Ron..."

"Honestly, Ronald!" Hermione shrilled, her nose scrunching up in fury. "Why don't you just blame the poor weather on me then, would you?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Wouldn't have to if everything wasn't always your or that stupid cat's fault."

"Scabbers is fine!"

"That demon tried to eat him! He's traumatized!"

"How could you say that about that innocent creature!"

"Innocent?! Have you _seen_ his bloody face—"

"Excuse me, but some of us are trying to read." Dru barked, annoyed by the pair's argument. She gave another glare at Harry, motioning to his friends. He gave a helpless shrug before returning to them.

"No one was talking to you, Malfoy," Weasley said, his face reddening further.

"That is my wish, yes." She muttered, returning to her book.

"Just bug off, you snake!"

Dru suddenly stood, slamming her hands on their table. Her sour mood had caught up to her as she boldly snarled at the redhead. She ignored Harry's worried frown and Hermione's miffed face as she hissed through her teeth, "Either you shut your mouth or I won't keep mine shut about how a _certain someone_ does not have permission to be in Hogsmeade to the group of Professors over there."

The whole group glared at her when they realized Professor McGonagall, the half-giant mammoth, Headmaster Dumbledore, and-much to their surprise-Cornelius Fudge entered the pub. Dru shrugged before continuing to read. She held back her laughter when she saw Weasley shove Harry under the table, taking his tankard with him. She ignored the table's glares her way as Hermione moved the tree to block the view of them from the professor's table.

She curiously glanced over to the group of adults as they quietly chattered, oblivious to the hidden group of Gryffindors. The giant-man caught her stare and sent her such a vile glare her way that she blinked in shock. Of course, she knew that the glare was most likely warranted due to the Buckbeak situation. Despite her letter explaining to her parents that she did not cause the accident, but was, in fact, the very boys Father had paid to watch over last Christmas break. Still, a complaint was filed. Father's grip reached far in the Ministry.

From what Dru could recall, a formal request was made to present the case to a committee, which would most certainly call for the execution of the magical creature. As much as she wished, Father refused to revoke the complaint. Dru knew that Father saw it as an opportunity to place claws back into the school, hoping to snatch a seat of power again come next school year. Guilt and frustration pooled in her stomach, leaving an uncomfortable heat settling deep within. It bothered her so much that she found herself leaving the pub without so much as another glance to Harry and his friends.

"Dru! Darling, there you are." Daphne happily called, the group of four meeting the girl just outside the pub. Dru flinched at her friendliness.

"Where is ya heading there, Dru?" Theo asked, a breathy laugh escaping his mouth when Blaise slipped in the snow. "S'thought we meetin' up, yea?"

Dru quickly shook her head, feigning a cough. "It appears even with all these layers, the cold is too much for me. I'm heading back to Hogwarts early. Hopefully, a cup of tea will suffice."

"Then perhaps we should switch over to Madam Pudifoot's?" Blaise suggested, sending a not so secretive smile Daphne's way.

Dru recoiled at the thought of going to _the _couple's spot for every Hogsmeade trip. Surely, it didn't help that there were only two-person tables littering the sweet-smelling shop.

"No, I don't want to ruin your trip. Besides, I already have all your presents, so there is no need for me to stay longer. I will see you at supper, I promise!"

"You can't exactly just walk back by yourself—oof!"

Pansy smiled at Dru as Theo moaned in pain from her sharp elbow. "We'll cover for you, Dru!"

Dru smiled in thanks before quickly heading off. Her mind wandering, she instead found herself entering Honeydukes, the sweet smell luring her in. If Dru knew one thing about herself, it was that whenever she was moody or restless, sweets always brought cheer to her lips. She took her time in picking her poison, deciding that staying in the warm and cozy shop wouldn't hurt a little longer. All she had to look forward to was the long, cold walk back to Hogwarts.

She whipped her head to the sudden rang of the door's bell just after she purchased a cup of steaming hot chocolate as her chocolate delight. She wrinkled her nose at the sight of a grouchy Harry Potter, quickly stalking his way through the store. She rolled her eyes; he probably had been caught.

Dru didn't bother to call for his attention, deciding that his sour attitude mixed with hers wouldn't be the best combination, especially with them just negotiating for a more civil rivalry between them.

"Dru!" An angry voice hissed. Dru flinched as she realized she had been spotted by the very person she was so hoping would not notice her sneaking out of the shop.

She paused, turning to see a very, very upset Harry. Dru swore she saw tears behind his eyes. A brief pause and a small hello left the boy fuming further.

"_You knew!_ You knew and you didn't tell me!" He spat, stalking forward until he was only breaths away. Dru slowly backed away, trying to put distance in how uncomfortably close he was. _Hot, disgusting breaths... A grip too tight..._

"I would advise you that you should lower your voice, _Harry_." She sneered back, nodding her head to a very concerned Ambrosius Flume. Harry looked, wrinkling his nose at the unwanted audience. He glared back at Dru; his green eyes flashed brilliantly.

"Fine. C'mon."

Dru didn't move an inch when he walked towards the back of the store, worrying her lip. She could still make a move for the door if she hurried fast enough.

"Dru, _please_."

Dru rolled her eyes at his petulant behavior. Honestly, he was acting like a brat of a child with his temper tantrums as of late. She crossed her arms. "Like I would willingly follow an angry person into a secluded place where there would be no witnesses."

"_Dru_!"

"Ugh, fine, you petulant brat!" Dru stomped past Harry as they neared the back of the store.

Looking over her shoulder, she saw that Mr. Flume had long forgotten about the public spat between the two of them, going back to restocking the shelf behind the register. She stopped, waiting for Harry to catch up. But he didn't stop; instead, he kept walking further and further into the back of the store, towards the cellars. Dru felt her heart lurch in her chest, all sorts of alarm bells ringing in her mind at the unwise situation she was placing herself in.

But, Dru didn't think Harry Potter was that kind of person. He was too stupid, first of all.

"Where exactly are we going, Harry?" Dru demanded, wrinkling her nose as they snuck through a door and walked down old, creaky stairs. The cellar was cold and had wet air that hung disgustingly in the air. Cobwebs and dust speckled throughout the boxes and storage shelves. Dru would most definitely take a long, steaming hot shower after this excursion. Where were they bloody going?! Was he really going to commit murder _here_ of all places?

"Back to Hogwarts, Dru."

Dru huffed. "Don't be such a child, Harry. Now, use your big words and tell me exactly why you're kidnapping me in this horrid place?"

Harry groaned in frustration as he raked his fingers through his messy hair. "I'm not kidnapping you, _Druella_."

"_Don't _you dare call me that!" She seethed, her anger whirling around within her head, pressing uncomfortably between her eyes. If she hadn't been glaring holes into the back of his coat, she would've stumbled into him with his sudden stop. Quickly, he pulled open a hidden door. Turning, he motioned to her to follow. "Merlin! I am not going down that dark, creepy, _disgusting_ hole with _you_, Harry Potter! I'm leaving this instant."

"Would you rather walk through the cold?"

Dru paused, before huffing in annoyance as she pulled out her wand. "_Lumos!_" Quickly, she followed her light down the stairs into the mysterious dark corridor. She heard Harry follow close behind, shutting the door behind them. Darkness flooded them. Dru turned back to see a very hard and angry look on Harry's face.

"You knew." He muttered again. "You knew about Sirius Black and my parents."

Dru's face paled considerably, her light wavering as fear and guilt washed over her. She sighed, before turning back to face the suffocating tunnel. Marching forward, she said, "This leads to Hogwarts, correct?"

"Answer me!" Harry shouted, reaching forward to snatch her arm. Her bags fell to the floor; her friends' precious gifts littered the dirty floor. Dru felt her anger boil over. First, her friends left her behind on a day that was supposed to be a wonderful memory for Dru to cherish over Holiday. Then, Weasley and Granger give her a splitting headache, followed by overwhelming guilt from a giant man's glare. And now this: this stupid, _stupid_ boy demanding answers from her after he kidnapped her to a dark and claustrophobic tunnel.

"You will take care to let me go, Harry." She harshly warned, grey eyes flashing. She didn't grimace at Harry's sudden flinch of fear. Instead, she gathered her gifts and books and placed them in his hands. Sighing, she pressed onward, following the light given by her beautiful wand.

"What the bloody hell—"

"Either shut it, or I hex you, Harry."

Harry grumbled. "Just tell me why you didn't tell me about Sirius! You promised earlier this summer that you would—"

"I didn't realize I was a service of your whim."

"Stop it with that sarcasm, Dru, and just answer the question. Why didn't you tell me that, that _murderer _was my bloody godfather?!"

Dru froze, slowly turning back to face Harry. A gasp had escaped her lips, surprise and sympathy running rampant in her eyes. It seemed she was in a flurry of emotions today, and she absolutely despised it.

"He, he was your godfather?"

Harry blinked. Then blinked again, green eyes so, so wide. "What did you find... from your research?"

Dru frowned, deciding to walk beside Harry. She looked over and noticed he'd grown taller. They were the same height now, differing from how she could look over his head their first year. Things seemed to change before she could ever notice; it drove her mad.

"Well," She started, exhaling deeply as they walked through the secret tunnel. "Sirius Black was of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, a prestigious and well-known pureblood family in England and most of Europe. Mother was a Black before she married Father. Sirius and she were cousins." Harry nodded, looking stiffly forward as she continued. "I know he was friends with your parents, Harry, but I didn't know how close they were... I also know that he betrayed them to Voldemort, leading to their unfortunate end..."

Harry didn't say anything, and neither did Dru. Instead, they walked in a brisk silence. Dru worried her lip, her fingernails pressing into her palms, while Harry scrunched his nose, his glasses going askew.

"He was their best man...my godfather." Harry finally admitted. He refused to look at Dru as she observed him. His face was tight, his voice wavering. "Dumbledore... He said they used a Fidelius Charm to hide me and my parents from Voldemort. Sirius was their Secret Keeper. Not even a week passed before my parents were killed."

Dru frowned. She didn't know what to do when Harry suddenly stopped. Sitting on the dirt floor, Harry shouted. "He killed them! They trusted him, and he betrayed him!"

Dru stood for a moment, terrified of the upset boy. She didn't know what to do. He wouldn't stop shaking, gasping for air with shuddering breaths. Should she leave him, should she stay? Should she say anything? She wasn't close to Harry Potter, so why the job of comforting this boy suddenly her job? Where were his friends? Why couldn't they do their jobs? Why was Dru stuck with this terrifying boy...?

Inhaling slowly, she sat beside Harry. She refrained from scrunching her nose at the foul floor; instead, she extinguished the light. Darkness flooded them, leaving Harry Potter to sniffle in the dark, unafraid and free. Dru didn't offer her hand; she just sat, waiting for him to collect himself.

After a moment, he did. He refused to look at Dru as he pulled himself off the ground. As he began to walk forward, using his wand to light the way, Dru huffed in annoyance.

"An offered hand would suffice, Harry."

Without a word, he gently pulled her up. Dru caught sight of his swollen and teary eyes. She blinked; he blinked back at her. She decided that they didn't look as piercing when he was blubbering like a fool.

They walked onward.

The rest of the walk was quiet, neither wanting to speak. It seemed it was agreed upon that that exchange was to remain between them, much like a majority of their friendship-Dru wasn't even sure if she should name it that. Dru preferred it that way, too uncomfortable with filling in the shoes of a "concerned and empathetic friend." He didn't need her to play that role; it's why he had Weasley and Granger. She would just be a witness to his sadness, like how he witnessed hers those years ago in the Forbidden Forest.

The silence didn't last long, however, as Dru's curiosity grew too much.

"How do you know about this passage, Harry?"

He shrugged. "Dunno... Found it, I suppose."

Dru rolled her eyes. "If you wish to keep it to yourself, then just say so."

He didn't respond, instead of opening a hatch that brought in much-needed light. Harry stepped through first, turning to help Dru out of the tunnel. She observed their surroundings, pleasantly surprised to find them in Hogwarts. Looking back, she realized they had stepped out of a stone witch. How clever...

"I suppose you wish for me to keep this passage secret, yes?"

Harry nodded at her, letting his hair hide his face. Dru rolled her eyes at his hurt ego.

"Well then, take care, Harry..."

And Dru didn't look back, hurriedly walking to the Slytherin dormitory. She believed that she would skip the evening meal today, too exhausted from the emotional Harry.

* * *

The rest of the term was boring and cold. Dru gave her friends their gifts, smiling softly at them as they cheered and cooed in thanks. Theo ruffled her hair, Pansy tackled her in a tight hug, Blaise gave a brilliant smile, and Daphne squeezed her hand. She had missed her friends and would miss them even more over the break. It stung her heart as she parted with them at the station, quickly following her parents.

The weeks that passed were just as boring and cold as the end of the term. Dru found herself bored, yet again, as she strolled through Malfoy Manor. Inspired by the secret passage Harry had unintentionally showed her, Dru searched for her own at her home. Certainly, with how old and withstanding Malfoy Manor was, there must be one passageway hidden somewhere.

She started her search with her room, knocking her hand all over the walls and moving furniture and rugs out of the way. When her search came up empty, she moved to the powder rooms. She searched the sitting room, the library, the kitchen, the formal dining room, and even the parlor room. Her searches came up empty, leaving her frustrated and agitated.

As she stood before Father's locked personal study, she became more and more certain that there was one somewhere in there. There had to be! It made sense, seeing as how their family's most important documents and artifacts rested in the enchanted room. Father had been paranoid one summer years ago, charming the room with barriers and wards to keep away thieves and nosy witches like Dru. Still, she figured out his secret code: three sudden taps, one stomp, and finally four turns of the knob.

She followed that code precisely soon after Father left for an important business meeting somewhere in Greece. Mother was shopping with friends in Italy, again, for Christmas presents.

Dru smirked to herself as she entered the room and began her search.

Flipping through books, moving small artifacts, and even feeling the walls, Dru searched and searched for a secret passageway. An hour passed, and her attempts had been fruitless.

"Honestly!" Dru huffed to herself, twisting the cap of Father's favorite pen twice clockwise in thought. "It shouldn't be that hard-"

_THUD!_ Dru shrieked as a secret compartment opened suddenly underneath the desk.

Quickly, she fell to her knees. Dru couldn't stop giggling at her success. It was a small compartment, no larger than the length of her hand. Her fingers felt around, closing her fingers on cold metal. She pulled the object close to herself. It was a small, golden key. She brought it under the lamp's light.

Engraved on the top of the key was the symbol of the Black Family-a skull sitting superior to a wand with three crows placed beneath it with their motto, _Toujours Pur_. Below, there was a number: #789. Peculiar... It looked just like a Gringott's key, but their keys were typically smaller and more blocky in their design. This was a beautifully crafted piece, shining brightly under the light.

Dru wondered just what the key could possibly be for. Was it Mother's, seeing as how she was of the Black Family? Did it belong to a vault in Gringott's? Or was it the key for something more precious, more valuable? Dru wasn't quite sure. Deciding it would be safe to investigate later, she placed the key back into the compartment, quickly closing it before leaving the study. Mother would be home any minute, meaning she best be in her room lest she would be dragged to try on clothes Mother splurged on.

Dru couldn't stop thinking about the key for the rest of the night. Her curiosity gnawed at her as she laid in bed. Worrying her lip, she dreamed of the possible explanations of the key. Overwhelming darkness followed, suffocating her to the point she woke up in a start.

Night terrors. Again. And always of the same thing.

She reached for her drawer, searching for the vial. Her fingers didn't find it, however. She had finished the potion the night before she left for Malfoy Manor. Dru wrinkled her nose in annoyance; she should have asked for more before she left on the Hogwarts Express. Laying back in bed, the girl waited for her heart to calm. Her blood blazed through her body. The air became thick, weighing more and more. The weight of gold, silver, exhaustion, and fear trapped her. It was inescapable; The Nothingness enveloped her.

She couldn't sleep for the rest of the night, too frightened of the shadows in her room.

* * *

A few days later found Dru searching again for more secret passageways and compartments through her house. The only rooms she had not checked were her parents and the cellar. She decided that not even she held the courage to enter her parent's chamber; Dru couldn't imagine what exactly happened in that room, but she preferred to keep her sanity intact this break. So her feet took her to the humid and dark cellar where the wine was decades old to match the mildew that grew there.

The Malfoy heiress kept her manicured hands close to her chest. Dru didn't even want to consider the foul diseases and germs that laid about the cellar. She buried deeper under her thick turtleneck sweater-a gift from Mother from Italy. It was as soft and priceless to the touch as was the grim that filmed over the stone. Dru wrinkled her nose at the thought.

The sunlight couldn't reach the foul depths of Malfoy Manor. Only enchanted lights illuminated the way with sickly emerald green. Dru hummed thoughtfully, tapping her finger to her lips.

She started with the walls. Her eyes crept over every crevice and crack of the old stone. Its dents and concaves embedded into her mind. Furiously, Dru processed possible nooks where a hand could be placed. Ever protuberance and bump were analyzed. But even that failed her after a time. Huffing, Dru turned to the contents of the cellars.

Crate after crate, she read the labels of some of the most expensive wines and ales a wizard could wish for. Of course, Father would have an impressive collection. Any pureblood patriarch did. She searched and searched, looking for a misplaced crate, scratches on the floor, or the feel of a draft.

Yet again, Dru found her search redundant and fruitless. Her voice expelled noises of frustration, shaking her head. She worried her lip and scrunched her nose. Druella Malfoy was never one for defeat.

And it proved to be right when she saw a glimmer under the green light. Running forward, her fingers delicately touched the Malfoy crest on a particularly old and worn wooden crate. She pressed her fingers. _Click!_

Behind her on the farthest facing stone wall, a small portion, no taller than her, swung open. Dru screamed in excitement, hurriedly running towards the light of the south side of her estate. It led directly to the woods. An escape route.

Dru saw the door close behind her, seamlessly blending into the Manor's wall.

For lunch that day, she celebrated with a cup of lavender tea and a nibble of tea tart. Mother shrieked at the cobwebs that covered her, but Dru was too happy to care.

* * *

Her excitement soon fled as the day after next was Christmas Eve—the day of the traditional Malfoy Christmas gala. Dru always rolled her eyes at the word _gala_. It had been Mother's insistence that such an event as this has a title to warrant and implicate its grandeur—"Druella, my dear, we are a family of high sophistication, and to say we simply 'throw a party' is preposterous! We host a beautiful and elegant _gala_, dear."

Dru dread grew and grew as the day dragged on. From her gown fitting to being poked, plucked, and prodded by Mother's ruthless charms and tweezers, the poor heiress was ready to severely maim the next elf who told her that Missus Malfoy was calling for her. She took to hiding in the library. Sitting her chair, Dru tried to make herself comfortable despite the uncomfortable dress.

While Dru admired the brilliant emerald sheen, she _despised_ how pouffy and girly it was. When her eyes first saw the monstrosity, Dru almost set the dress on fire. It was impossibly long and wide, much like an early century ball gown, and just as uncomfortable and unnecessary. Whenever she strolled through the halls, she had to walk at an angle to avoid creasing the dress—"Druella Lucia! If you so much as _crease_ or _wrinkle_ that beautiful gown, I will forbid you from hopping on that stupid broom for the rest of your life!"

The shrilling still left her ears ringing an hour later.

"Druella."

Dru quickly turned to the voice, paling in fear at the sight of a very, very stern-looking Lucius Malfoy shaking his head in disproval.

"The party, my dear daughter, is in the Parlor room." He rumbled, a cross between a chuckle and a scolding manner. It left Dru shaking her knees; she hated not knowing what he was thinking. "If you would care to join the party, then perhaps I could convince your Mother to retire early."

Dru beamed happily at her father, hurriedly walking over to join him. Taking his arm, she smiled at him. "Ever the negotiator you are, Father."

A soft rumbled escaped his chest, leaving Dru to preen at his approval. "As much as I love my wife and daughter, sometimes I wonder if it's worth my sanity."

The short walk was pleasant, leaving Dru to wonder where this man, her father, had been hiding these past few years. She would be lying to say if she thought he was gone forever. From his complex schemes to manipulations, Dru grew more and more wary of her father every day. She loved him deeply, but fear rooted just as firm and fierce as her adoration. But now, in the soft lights of their home, she saw her father. He was home.

"Druella, my dear." He suddenly spoke, pausing them in their walk. They were just behind the main doors, tucked away from the nosy and rude elites. "Remember, family first, always."

"Of course, Father." She answered, her voice as strong and resolute as her determination. She didn't waver; Lucius squeezed her hand.

"Now, please greet our guests while I speak to your mother."

And just as quickly as he returned, he left, an unfillable void where a father's love and strength should be.

Dru turned to the nearest guest, her smile a little too tight and bright, as she greeted them.

* * *

Days after the gala, Dru still hadn't seen her father. It left a deeply unsettling pit in her stomach, a blackness growing and gnawing at her insides as the hours waned through those days. It grew and grew as over a week passed. And as it eroded her away, the Nothingness settled deeply within, taking strong root in the turmoil of Dru's heart.

It amounted to her confronting her mother late one evening, face flustered and hair disarray.

"Druella, darling!" Narcissa cried, a hand clutching her heart. "You're positively a mess. For Merlin's sake, please put a brush through that bush."

Dru rolled her eyes, crossing her arms to brace herself. She needed to know; she was worried. "Where's Father?"

Her mother's face fell in an instant, her beautiful face taking on her years and stress as she worried her lip. She patted the cushion of the chair beside her, Dru's chair. "Come sit now, love."

Dru stared expectantly at her, drumming her fingers on her forearm. She squeezed herself tight, a little too tight. Narcissa pinched the bridge of her nose as she snorted to herself.

"Shortly after your father spoke to me at the gala, the Ministry sent word to him about... about your Auntie Bella... He has been at Azkaban ever since."

Dru's fury bristled under her skin, leaving hot and red to the touch. She snarled, "Well why didn't you tell me this as soon as he left?! Why was I left clueless for _days_, Mother?!"

"Oh don't be so dramatic, dear." Narcissa miffed. "If you keep that scowl on her face it'll bring on those dreadful wrinkles faster."

Dru snorted. "Please! Like I'm worried about skincare when my father is speaking to that, that _mentally insane_ woman—"

"That is your aunt!" Narcissa suddenly sneered, her voice dripping so low that Dru swore she saw her eyes reddened. The girl was left to clutching her robe, terrified by how her mother spoke. Dru always knew there was a reason why Father fretted over her, always maintaining her happiness and wellbeing. She didn't realize it was because of how _utterly_ terrifying and murderous her mother could become. She swore the manic glee Bellatrix Lestrange proudly wore was in the glimmer of her eye... "Never speak such ill of your family, Druella Lucia. She is blood, and I will not allow a thirteen-year-old girl to speak such blasphemy about _my sister_!"

Dru quickly nodded, biting her lip. She refused to speak.

Narcissa fell back into her chair, suddenly exhausted. "Hush dear. I apologize for that sudden loss of... control, but I will not let my daughter disrespect the very principle our family is built upon—family first, always."

Dru nodded again.

"Good, now dear. I do not know when your father will return, but I fear it won't be until after you depart back to Hogwarts." The matriarch tapped her lips, frowning at how meek and submissive her daughter had become. She was a Malfoy, and Malfoys did not bend when others break. "Chin up, love. Family is a hard lesson to learn, but it's a philosophy that brought us here today. Never forget who your family is, Druella. And perhaps they won't forget about you."

"Yes, Mother."

"Off to bed now. You leave for Hogwarts the morning after next, so I believe you have some packing to do."

"Goodnight, Mother."

"Sweet dreams, my love."

Hours later, Dru laid in her bed, wondering if her mother was as manic as her _beloved_ aunt.

* * *

Dru couldn't be happier to find herself next Monday morning back at Hogwarts. Her friends were there to greet her, leaving the Slytherin dizzy from laughter and smiles. It had been a long time since she laughed as much as did as she strolled to classes or to the Great Hall. The bitterness from the Hogsmeade trip had burned off during Holiday, showing Dru how much she had missed her friends.

She didn't plan on letting them go anytime soon.

But first, she had to worry about the first Quidditch match back—Slytherin vs. Ravenclaw.

If they won, then surely they would win the Quidditch Cup this year! It left Dru buzzing in anticipation for the match to come quicker. She trained relentlessly. So many evenings she found her team practicing on the Pitch, ruthlessly going through drill after drill. It left her sore and aching every morning after, but she gritted through it. Marcus Flint was particularly harsh on her, but she didn't spare him another glance.

After that horrid evening with Mother...Dru decided she was tired of being wary. She would just have to be more of a Slytherin she proudly claimed to be—cold-calculated determination and prowess. It worked for the most part, especially after she "accidentally" knocked him off his broom when she was chasing after the Snitch. The pathetic cries of pain about his arse were a joy to behold, leaving her and her friends cackling about hours later in the common room—"I swore I heard him cry for his mummy when he fell to the ground! It was positively perfect!"

She didn't show any concern for his recovery, knowing full well he _will_ be at that match come that Saturday morning.

And he was. And they had won, because of her.

Dru had caught the Snith within the first fifteen minutes of the match, her fastest catch time ever. She left Cho Chang speechless in the air, shell-shocked at the Slytherin seeker.

As her team carried her off the grounds in cheer, heading back to the Slytherin dorms for their post-victory bash, she swore she saw fear in Harry Potter's eyes. It left her toes curling for the rest of the night. He should be scared because come next match, she was going to win _no matter what_.

A pleasant warmth carried through her the rest of the night as she sipped her butterbeer and laughed at the drunk upper years. Pansy sat beside her, crowing and bragging about how Dru was ruthless and carried the team. Theo would jump in with a few garbled, but equally enthusiastic, cheers. Blaise and Daphne sat together, laughing and teasing the lightweights. Dru's face hurt by the end of the night from the amount of laughing and smiling she did.

It was a good night; the kind of night she had feared she wouldn't have again for a long, long time.

(She was right.)

* * *

"Since when was baby Potter not afraid of those stupid bloody dementors no more?!" Marcus Flinch hissed into Dru's face. She growled at the spit landing on her cheek, wiping it away before her fury could boil it off her skin.

"Pardon you, but I do believe that your mother has taught you manners, you piggish oaf!" Dru sneered, turning on her toe to make a way out of the stands.

It was just after the Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw match, where Harry miraculously maneuvered his way past the dementors with a spell, snatching the Golden Snitch before pretty Cho Chang could steal it from him. It left Slytherin booing from the stands, with Theo, Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle taking the lead. Dru was too frazzled by Harry's amazing flying to boo. She had thought his fear and worries leave him distracted enough to throw the game, but she had thought wrong. Terribly wrong.

And Marcus Flint blamed her for it.

"I thought you and your little runts were scaring him away, Malfoy!"

Dru rolled her eyes, shoving past first-years with a rushed apology. She turned her attention back to Flint once they left the Pitch, who was still stomping after her with his pungent odor and sneer ever-gracing their presence. "Please, come off it, Flint! I didn't realize your manhood was tied to Potter's whimpers. Get off on that, do you?"

The all too familiar vice-like grip found its way onto her arm. He squeezed so tight that she almost fell back into him. His nails dug into her skin, letting her anger and fear bubble over to the surface. No! Not again!

"_Flipendo!_"

Marcus Flint flew back several feet into the benches. A sharp thud. Silence. Dru waited with bated breath for a sound, any sound. Did she... Did she?

"Bloody _fuck_ Malfoy!" Flint cursed, a groan coming through his gritted teeth as he rose to sit. "You fucking attacked me. Wait until McGonagall hears about this-"

"I would watch what you say, Flint," Dru said. Her voice was cold, sharpened by her ferocity and anger. She stared down the grunt as she pointed her wand at him. Stalking forward, the tip of it touched his throat. She pressed harder into it. "You see, you seem to forget just what the name _Malfoy_ means. I do not need Father to do my dirty work for me, but I am more than happy to write him a letter, crying about how a stupid oaf named Marcus Flint dared to _touch_ me, the only heiress of the Most Ancient and Prestigious House of Malfoy."

Flint gulped, not liking where this was going.

"Imagine his fury that a pathetic pureblood, with no real wealth or prestige attached to his name, dared to even touch a Malfoy, the Dark Lord's favored family... I would say the consequences would certainly be to _die_ for."

"What do you want then!" Flint spat. But it had long ago lost its venom the minute Dru decided she was tired of this pathetic wizard.

Dru shrugged. "Depends on how much you value your worthless life, Flint. If you ever touch me, or so much as _look_ at me, expect a dementor at your door the next morning."

Flint mutely nodded. Fear gripped his throat so tight that he couldn't even cry.

"Good," Dru nodded, withdrawing her wand. "Leave me. I will see you for practice."

Dru proudly smirked as the boy scurried off, tripping and sliding over the dew-covered grass. Turning on her heel, she enjoyed the view of the castle, especially how the sun shone brighter on her. However, the light soon darkened when she heard a gasp, not even a step forward.

The frizzy hair and insufferable attitude were recognizable enough. Hermione Granger... Dru's eyes widened in the realization that a notable trait of the girl was her love for rules and tattling on rule-breakers.

Dru quickly caught up the girl, grabbing her elbow as she spoke to her, "Granger! We need to talk-"

"Like I would ever speak to someone who _threatened_ someone's life just because she felt like it." Granger barked, the stick up her arse pleasantly on display.

Dru groaned in exasperation, nails biting into her skin. "Now wait just a minute, Granger! I believe your eyes have surely mistaken what you-"

"I'm speaking to Professor McGonagall, Malfoy." The Gryffindor tersely said, stopping in her tracks. Her glare rivaled Dru's in its determination and fire, but Dru saw through it. She was bluffing. "It's about time you experience the consequences of your actions."

Dru snorted. "You mean these consequences."

Hermione Granger gasped at the sight of the new bruise forming on her arm where Flint had grabbed her. Dru was sure they would be there for at least a week, maybe two.

"What, who..."

"Flint," Dru growled. "That pathetic little boy gets off on terrorizing people. Let's just say I had enough."

"We need to go to Professor McGonagall at once!" Hermione gasped. "She would know what to do. She can expel Flint, maybe, or surely remove him from the team."

"And lose the House Cup? No thanks."

The dark-haired girl snorted, her tight frizzy curls shaking. "Honestly! You! Harry and Ronald! Quidditch is not the end-all-be-all, you know?! Surely a stupid _game_ isn't worth being harassed by Flint."

"I'm not a snitch, Granger." Dru sneered, her eyes a blazing grey. "I don't need someone else to take care of me. I already dealt with the issue, so I kindly ask you to let it be."

Hermione frowned, gnawing on her lip thoughtfully. Her brown eyes stared at Dru, watching her. She noticed a few things about her tormentor over the years. First, she never directly confronted her and the boys. It was always clever ploys like the first year when she dared Harry into a duel, but actually told Filch they were sneaking out. Second, she was never one for fear or any kind of emotion. None too often, Dru had an unbreakable face; no one got to her, ever. But to see her so twitchy, so scared... It terrified Hermione. Yet, she admired her for her bravery. She knew what it was like to be harassed. All too much, boys at her primary would put gum into her curls, pushed her into the cubbies, and calling her horrible names just because of what she looked like.

She knew what it was like to be a victim. She was all too familiar with its implications.

She hated it, but Hermione emphasized with Druella Malfoy, the horrid-incarnate of one Cruella DeVil.

"Fine," Hermione said, her voice soft as she stared back.

Dru almost cried in relief. The one word sent so much reassurance and warmth that a tear broke out of her. She didn't understand why this, this stupid, nosy, bratty witch brought her so much comfort with her promise, but who was Dru to question it? She'd accept anything, _anything_, if it meant she would stop feeling this scared and pathetic. Hastily wiping it, she gave a nod to the girl.

"Thank-you."

Hermione Granger nodded. Without pause, she walked away.

"Wait!" Dru called. The Gryffindor girl turned, waiting with a tap of her foot and a raised brow. "I don't hate you... Hermione."

Hermione grimaced. "Well then. Good to know one person of this whole school doesn't despise me."

Dru was left in the grass, the late morning sun warming her face as she gaped at the leaving girl.

* * *

She found him struggling in the library, his fingers tapping on the old wooden table. His glasses were askew, as always, and dirty. A thick book laid beside him; a blank roll of parchment laid unfurled beside it. Potions, she deduced.

_Perfect_.

With a slam of her bookbag, she sat in front of him.

"Bloody hell!" He croaked, spilling his pot of ink with his right hand.

"Honestly, Harry," Dru drawled, inspecting her nails. "You'll die of a heart attack before the Grim gets you."

"What is it now, Dru?"

"What makes you think I want something from _you_, Harry?"

"You're talking to me...?"

Dru groaned. "Fair point. I guess I'll get right to it then. You need to be nicer to Hermione, yes?"

"Wait, what-"

"Good talk then, Harry. Until our next match. I do hope you will actually try to stay on the broom this time."

"Wait!" Dru rolled her eyes, sitting back down as she tucked her leg over her left and folded her hands on the table. Harry was still gaping at her like a fish out of water. "What, what do you mean be 'nicer' to her? You hate her!"

"You're surely mistaken then, Harry." She taunted, enjoying how flustered and confused he was too much. "I don't hate Hermione. I actually admire her academic prowess when she's not being nosy and obnoxious. It's a challenge that I certainly plan on conquering."

"Since when were you and Hermione chums?"

"You would have known had you stopped acting like a dolt and apologize to her."

"You don't even know what's going on!"

Dru shrugged. "You seem to underestimate my observation skills. I don't _need_ to know what's going on, only that she's right and you and Weasel are being pricks about it. The ladies are always right, don't you know?"

Harry shook his head, running his hand through his hair. "I don't believe his. Druella Malfoy has gone mad."

With a swift kick to his shin, Dru glared at him. "Don't call me that unless you've been wishing for some bats to show up, hmm?"

"What's it to you anyways?" He grumbled, rubbing his shin.

"Doesn't matter for you, because you're going to drag up Weasel by his collar and yourself and beg for forgiveness for how bloody stupid and pig-headed you've been to her." Dru stood, gathering her bag. She turned back for one final look at the confused Harry. "Lest you want Professor McGonagall to know about Hogsmeade?"

"You wouldn't-"

"Try me, Harry."

"I thought you said-"

"I only promised to keep quiet about the secret passageway, Harry. Not about your trip with butterbeer and friends." She waggled her fingers at him, turning with a skip in her step. "Ta-ta, for now, Harry. Best learn how to actually hold onto a broom come match day."

"Dru-!"

But she was already out of range from his grumbled protests. As she walked her way back towards the Slytherin common area, she wondered since when she became so soft. Was it when she thought she left Harry to die the first year? Or was it this past summer, when she saw a tolerable side of the Boy Wonder? Or maybe it was of that unspoken friendship in the tunnel so many weeks ago.

All Dru knew was that her debt to Hermione Granger has been paid. If Slytherins knew anything, it was the importance of favors. Throughout her whole life, she saw Father grow in wealth and power through two things: secrets and favors. Dru understood their power and hold on a person. Dru preferred to be the one holding the debts and favors in her hand as cards. She kept close to her chest and never broke character. She waited and waited, and now was the time to play it. And now, the Gryffindor held no power over her. They were even.

Dru planned to make sure no one would ever take her power away from. Never again.

* * *

The Slytherin almost couldn't believe her ears as Ronald Weasely, the bane of existence and the physical representation of a slimy, disgusting weasel, was hailed a hero by the school.

"Just what exactly did he bloody do? Learn how to properly bathe? Finally moved out of that trashcan and into a cardboard box?" Dru scoffed; a sharp bite into her toast left few crumbles and a smear of strawberry jam on her lip.

"Dru, love, clean up a bit," Daphne said, handing over a napkin.

Dru rolled her eyes as Pansy and Blaise chortled with each other.

"Yes, Dru. Shape up a bit." Blaise drawled, enjoying his cup of plain Breakfast tea too much. The way his smirk glinted momentarily blinded Dru with its confidence and brilliance.

"From what I heard from the Weasel twins, all Weasel did was cry wolf about Sirius Black." Pansy shrugged, munching happily on her blood sausages. She slapped Theo's hand away as he tried to snatch one away.

"Sirius Black..." Dru said, slowly consuming the nugget of information. "How has he managed to sneak into Hogwarts-twice?"

Theo snorted. "Longbottom had a list of passwords laying around. He just got the howler from dear ole grandmama just before you popped in for a nibble."

"Honestly!" Dru hissed, glaring at the wailing boy being comforted by Hermione and Weaselette. "Of course something as stupid as that would put all of us at risk."

"I wouldn't fret about it too much, Dru." Blaise placated, leaning backward to stretch his arms over his hand. "Black is after Potter, not Slytherins. Besides, you're his family. He wouldn't dare go against that."

Dru balked at the oblivious boy. It left a rage coil in her stomach as his disregard for the serious threat in their castle. How could he not care?! Didn't last year teach him that no one was safe? So what they Slytherin or pureblood? Sirius Black was a madman, acting first with anger and chance.

"But that's exactly what he did! He was a bloody Gryffindor. His name was blasted off the Black family tree. Sirius Black is a danger to anyone who crosses him, even us, Blaise." Dru barked, just a centimeter of her anger engulfing her voice.

Blaise snorted. "Calm down, love. Don't work yourself over something as trivial as Sirius Black. We all know who the real threat is, and he's gone no thanks to Harry Potter."

The silence was deeply unsettling. No one in their group had ever brought up Lord Voldemort, Death Eaters, or their parents' marks. It was a mutual consensus between the group to better move past their horrible history, but it seemed history would never leave them be.

"Blaise!" Daphne shrilled, almost raising her hand to smack. But it hovered just above his shoulder. The beautiful girl softly rested it in the crook of his elbow instead, squeezing tightly. It seemed as if Daphne was squeezing Dru's heart too with how the Malfoy's insides clenched so tightly at the sight. "Don't you ever bring _him_ up again, yes?"

Theo snorted. "S'no point, Daph. Sirius Black worked for Voldemort. It's why he's mad for Potter's blood anyway. S'no point in ignoring it."

Pansy wasn't afraid to hit a boy as seen in Theo clutching his shoulder tightly.

"Theodore! Can't you see you done now upset my best friend." Pansy sneered, her dark eyes melting in pools of rage. She jutted her thumb over to Dru, who had such a pale look on her face that the girls fear she would faint any minute. "You alright, love?"

It was only when Pansy reached over the table to tightly grasp her hand that her throat unclogged. She could speak now without the heaviness of Nothingness pressing so, so hard on her chest.

With a watery smile, Dru dismissed her friends. "Just peachy, Pans. Blaise is right. I shouldn't work myself up so much when I have the big game to focus on. I'll be heading over to class early today. I, I need to review my notes..."

Dru tried to ignore their protests and the girls admonishing the boy's insensitiveness, but it stung so bitterly. She held her books tighter to her chest as she walked, oblivious to Harry Potter and Hermione Granger curiously watching her rush out of the Great Hall.

Dru couldn't understand why Lord Voldemort instilled so much fear and terror into her heart. Yes, Father worshipped him. He believed in all of his work, of his ideology, and of his goals. From what he had told Dru over the years, he had seen the dangerous and cruel side of Muggles-"No witch or wizard coming from those monstrosities is worth placing the safety of real wizards in danger, Druella. I will not have my daughter live in the muck of their carelessness."

Her whole family, both Malfoy and Black, were apart of Lord Voldemort's inner ranks. All of her closest friends hailed from pureblood families, further reinforcing this savior complex found within the powerful wizard. Before Potter had destroyed him, he was as beautiful as he was charming and deadly. He encouraged thousands to join his campaign. It swept all through Great Britain.

He had almost won... Why wasn't Dru upset that he had lost? Why was there, this sense of _relief_ whenever she hears yet again that Harry Potter had stopped He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named...?

But the fear resonating through her held no answer. She held herself tightly, afraid of not knowing. She absolutely hated not knowing; it was a horrible quirk of hers. It led her to see a horrible, horrible side of her wonderful Father last year. It led to her becoming friends with Harry Potter, giving her so much grief and laughter that it left her restless most nights.

Finally reaching the classroom, she took to her spot. Pulling out her parchment and quill and books, control seeped through her.

She would focus on her classes and Quidditch. Blaise was right, as dull and egotistical and handsome as he may be. She shouldn't worry about Sirius Black. That was Harry Potter's problem. And since when did she cared about Harry Potter's problems?

* * *

Throughout the rest of the week and bleeding into the next, Dru felt the paranoia and fear grow in the school by tenfold. Security was increased as more and more Dementors were found haunting the grounds just after the sun had set in the evening. They straggled away as the first rays peered through the heavy morning fog, leaving many students to become active during the day and dormant at night. Dru had no shame as to say she became one of those students, all too familiar with the possible dangers of being out late at night thanks to her horrendous, horrendous detention first-year.

She more professors silently observing the halls and corridors between classes and during meals; their watchful eye left more anxiety and fear than comfort. Then again, Dru hated being watched. It infringed upon her freedoms and decisions. It wasn't that rare nowadays that she found herself second-guessing as her fear rose with the others. Not even the upcoming Quidditch match and the Hogsmeade trip would lift her spirits.

And it stayed with her especially so that weekend as she walked with Daphne and Pansy towards the small town. Blaise and Theo had long ago left the girls in favor of the other Slytherin boys to chat up about Quidditch and "manly things" as Theo eloquently said. The girls giggled with each other as they cooed about them fretting over possible trivial things like shaving and chest hair and such.

But Dru found her laughter a bit more hollow and forced then she would've liked. It seemed Daphne noticed too.

"Dru, darling," Daphne softly asked, squeezing her arm closer to her. "You have been quite saddened as of late. What's wrong?"

Dru felt her arms bristle as she readied herself a defensive reply. But, as she looked in Daphne's eyes, she was overtaken by their warmth and motherliness. Honestly, Daphne would make a wonderful mother. Dru sighed instead, shrugging her arm away from Daph to bring it closer to her chest.

"I'm just worried is all."

Pansy sniffed. "As _always_. Honestly Dru! You need to stop _overthinking_ and enjoy the moment. You're becoming quite a boring muggle with all this moping and fretting over, over... _things_!"

"Pansy!" Daphne shrieked, sharply smacking her friend's shoulder. "Honestly can you learn some _kindness_ when you speak to your friends?"

"Sorry, Daph, but someone needs to tell her straight or else she just wallows in self-pity for the rest of her life. 'Sides, I don't think your cooling is much help!"

"Loves!" Dru suddenly hissed, too riled up by the hot and cold of harsh love and cuddling to react in a normal composed manner. "I, I just need to process certain... _ideas_ in my head. Takes a bit of time, so stop fretting over me."

Daphne crossed her arms. "Please, Dru. We're worried, not daft."

"Yea! Stop breezing us over!"

"Fine!" Dru gritted out through her teeth. She paused in their walk, pulling a bit far back from the large group of Hogwarts' students. Her head throbbed as she mulled over how she could possibly explain this, this... Nothingness. This anxiety won't leave even as she closes her eyes, tucked away in a soft warm bed. The fear that haunts her stops like how the Dementor haunted her mind, even still months after. This, this terrible, terrible dread that keeps growing and growing and growing no matter how much she spends time in the light.

This _nothingness_.

"Just nervous because of Sirius Black and Quidditch..." She lied; she lied because it was safer than the murky, unknown truth.

And her friends seemed to tolerate her answering, quietly nodding in response.

"We are all worried about the murderer," Pansy said. "But we're fine! We have all the professors to protect us. 'Sides, from what Daddy has been writing me, Sirius Black was on his last days when he escaped. He's weak and mad, so he'll make a mistake eventually. Cheer up, love!"

Daphne nodded. "Yes, Dru. And with your upcoming match, don't worry about Harry Potter or even that disgusting Marcus Flint. Just focus on yourself and what _you_ can do. You'll be just wonderful, I know that much."

Despite how Dru lied to them about her real fears, she felt them alleviate away with their kind words of encouragement. She shouldn't worry so much. Daph and Pans were right. From now on, Dru would focus on what only _she _can't control, and let others fret over themselves. She had been trying to tell herself this for weeks, but it seemed her thick skull needed her friend's physical words to pound it through.

Dru smiled, her lips pulled a bit too tight over her teeth. The stretch left her mouth sore, but it was worth it to see her friends' beautiful smiles respond in kind.

"Yes! I'll think I'll do just that..." Dru pulled her friends closer to her, taking on a faster pace towards Hogsmeade. "C'mon girls! Let's grab some sweets, yes?"

* * *

After hours touring Hogsmeade together, Dru found herself parting with her friends. The girls and she never reconvened with the boys, deciding that today was a mandatory _girls' day_ according to Pansy-"They wouldn't get it, Dru. They are _so_ exhausting with their constant needing to reassure them that _yes_ their stupid Quidditch team will beat their stupid rivals and _yes_ they do look all so pretty today because they actually showered for one. Honestly!"

Instead, the girl browsed through each shop, picking up knick-knacks as they went. After enjoying some tea together, Daphne and Pansy said they needed to head back to the castle lest they miss their afternoon nap.

"You know Dru, a good rest does wonders to the complexion. Maybe that's why I have these horrendous pimples rearing their ugly faces on my poor, beautiful one!"

"Daph, love, you have a tiny red dot just above your brow. _No one can see it but you_!"

"Ugh! I know! It's such a cruel thing to see."

Dru, surprisingly, found herself a little more energetic then she'd been for the past several weeks. A hop was in her step; she was unstoppable.

"I'll think I'll meet up with the boys. See you at supper!"

But Dru didn't find the boys. Instead, she took a nice walk around the outskirts of Hogsmeade. The air was still crisp and cold, leaving a refreshing chill down her throat and nose. Her cheeks were a bit pink according to Daphne's fretting, but Dru didn't mind. She felt so _awake_. She loved how the cold invigorated her. Daphne always complained of the itchy layers and Pansy sneered about the stuffing heat in the rooms from the constant blaze of the fireplace, but Dru enjoyed its presence.

Something she missed now as she walked by the Shrieking Shack.

As much as Dru claimed to be untouched by fear, the old rundown shack left chills down her spine. It was the perfect lair for some mad serial murder to hide out in, or where the dementors leer in during the all too brights days. It was creaky and moldy. She didn't even want to think about how _dirty_ it must be inside of it. It left chills running down her back, prompting her to speed past it.

"Oh, look! If it isn't the _Weasel_, Goyle."

"Right ya are, Crabbe. Looking at your new home, rat?"

"Shove off, Goyle!"

Dru rolled her eyes at the three boys seething at each other. Goyle had stolen that snide remark from her just last week after Weasley "accidentally" shoved her in the hall, snickering with the two other Gryffindor boys in his year besides Longbottom and Harry. Theo and Goyle had helped her up, laughing at her curses thrown at the ginger. _Of course, Goyle was so inept that not even _he_ could make up his own burns. They were most likely just a good right hook to the face, no doubt about it._

"Why don't you make me, _Weasel_."

Dru snorted._ How clever-_

Suddenly, a snowball was thrown at Goyle, knocking him a few steps forward. Dru blinked, watching as another mysterious snowball was thrown at him again, this time hitting him in the stomach. Another and another followed at him. Soon, it was a small flurry of ice and snow being thrown and kicked at the two Slytherin boys. All the while Ron stood aside, clutching his sides as he ruthlessly laughed.

Dru frowned, stepping closer to see just _what_ was happening.

The two boys, clearly having enough of the sharp and cold snow, made haste to leave. However, Crabbe's foot caught on something, making him trip over himself.

A blink, and suddenly Harry Potter was standing there, laughing along with Weasel, a large cloak strewn over his shoulders and chest.

Dru would like to say she didn't shriek that day, but that would be a lie. A terrible, hilarious lie. The poor girl screamed in total fear and confusion at the sudden appearance of the troublesome boy. And it was not quiet at all.

"Hey!" Weasel growled. "Malfoy! Come back here!"

But Dru was already taking off, running down the path back to Hogsmeade. She didn't get far though before something _catapulted into her_. With a loud and very disgraceful-Daphne would not be proud, least of all her poor, dear ole Mother-cry, Dru faceplanted into the snow.

Quickly rolling onto her back, she saw Harry scrambling to stand in the snow, dusting it off himself.

With blazing grey eyes, Dru stared Harry down. "You bloody _tackled_ me!"

"Well, um, I-"

"_Well, um, __I_ nothing, Harry!" She shrieked, suddenly standing up. Her nostrils flared; her face flushed red in blinding rage as she stalked up to the _buffoon_ she called a friend. She jammed her wand into his chest, digging in _hard_. "Who the bloody hell tackles a _girl_?"

"Ow! Hey!"

Dru dryly cackled. "You, Harry Potter, are truly seeking a death wish today!"

"Lay off him, Malfoy!" Weasel sneered, pointing his wand at the girl. She rolled her eyes.

"Like I'm afraid of that broken thing, Weasley. It's as old and twisted as your shack of a home." She turned back to Harry, shoving her wand into him again. "What happened back there, Harry? You certainly didn't just appear-"

And then Dru caught eyes of the bunched up cloak in Weasley's hand. A beautifully sewn cloak that _dazzled_ in the midafternoon light. It was a dark color with intricates patterns of swirls and lines and colors merging together. It was a breathless beauty. It looked just like the one her mother had shown her a picture of in their first-edition copy of _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_...

"No, no, no." She hissed, shoving Harry away as she snatched the cloak from Weasel. "Is this, is this what I believe it is...?"

"Uh," Harry mumbled, failing to pull the cloak away from Dru. "A nice cloak?"

"_An invisibility cloak_!" She screeched, glaring furiously at the two twits. "You have a bloody invisibility cloak!"

"Please," Ron scoffed, his face turning deathly pale. "Like, like _we_ would have an actual invisibility-"

Dru laid the blanket over her shoulders, wrapping it around her. She gasped in disbelief as her whole body from the neck down disappeared. All she saw was the white snow under her feet. She looked pointedly at Weasley. "You were saying?"

"Give it back, Dru!" Harry groaned, almost _whining_ to the girl.

"And why should I, Harry?" Dru huffed. "You _attacked_ my housemates!"

"Those twats?" Weasley fumed, face blazing red.

Dru snorted. "Fair point, but they're still Slytherin. Besides, I'm sure this is surely _not_ allowed on school property. Imagine all the rules you could break... Oh, bloody Merlin! That's how you managed to get away that first year!"

"Beg your pardon?" Harry muttered, crossing his arms.

Dru glared at him. "You and Granger! You used this _stupid_ cloak to get away from Professor McGonagall and got me in trouble! You little twats!"

"You ratted us out to her in the first place, you snake!" Ron snarled, bristling at the brat.

"Dru!" Harry barked. "Give us back the cloak!"

Dru snorted. "Like I'll ever give it back to you, Harry. You should've been less careless with something as _powerful_ as this! Honestly! I'm surprised you imbeciles haven't even ripped this beautiful thing to shreds with how oafish and clumsy you are. Especially you, Weasley. Probably never seen something as priceless in your whole life."

"Druella!" Harry barked again, eyes flashing a dangerous green that would have terrified Dru had to she cared.

"Don't call me that!"

"What do you want, Dru?"

Dru hummed thoughtfully, pulling the cloak off herself as she bundled it carefully into her arms. She smirked visciously as she stared at the raven-haired boy. "A favor, of course."

The boys paled considerably as the girl grew more vicious by the minute.

"A, a favor?" Weasley repeated, gulping loudly to Dru's annoyance. Yes, she was a terrifying and brilliant sight to behold, but that doesn't mean they can become these annoying puddles of boy.

Dru nodded. "Yes, a favor from each of you. I recall that I have already done Harry here _multiple_ favors, so it's best you pay, yes?"

Harry scowled at the girl, annoyed with how vindicative she could actually be. If they were on the same side, he would be impressed. But now? He was as humiliated as he was furious about this whole situation. "Fine. We owe you, Dru."

"Splendid!" Dru sang, clapping her hands together after delicately returning the priceless magical artifact back to Harry's hands. She noticed they weren't as knobbly and sunken as they were before first-year. She nodded to herself; good, she didn't want to play against a sad, pathetic cripple. "Ta-ta for now!"

With a skip in her step, Dru strutted away. She looked back, however, and sent them a victorious smirk. "Best hurry back to Hogwarts. I caught Goyle staring at your floating head before they took off. I'm sure Snape would be _thrilled_ to hear about it!"

"You have got to be kidding me."

"RUN HARRY!"

Dru cackled as Harry ran past her, wrapping himself in the cloak after sending her one more nasty look.

Yes, today was a good day.

* * *

Dru decided to spend her Easter holidays and weeks after at Hogwarts, preparing for her final exams and for the upcoming Quidditch Final. All she had to do was catch the Golden Snitch before Gryffindor was more than fifty points. Easy enough for her, as she had been practicing catching the Snith early on in the match instead of aiding her teammates by maintaining a good lead ahead of the others. The quicker the match, the less opportunity that Harry's stupid luck could help him.

Even with all of her relentless preparation, she still found herself wary and nervous. She couldn't lose to him again. She could feel the disappointment and disgust in Father's voice, the anger in her housemates, and her friends' pity. Even the thought of Weasley's and traveling ban of oafs haughtiness left her shivering in worry.

Druella Malfoy was_ not _a loser. She would win, yes. But why did it feel like it was hopeless?

"Dru!" One of her chasers hissed. She blinked at him. "Focus! We're about to head out."

She nodded, clenching her beloved_ Achilles_ tighter.

* * *

"She's _still_ moping about?" Theo whined, collapsing into the emerald-green chair as he stared hopelessly at Blais and Daphne. Pansy was up in the third year's girl dormitory, trying to cheer up Dru enough to make her come to supper with them.

"Hush, Theodore!" Daphne snapped, flipping through a page in her large tome.

"Honestly, Daph!" He said, catching his ball that he had thrown in the air. He continued, "It's been _over a week_! She needs to stop sulking and help me _study_ for my exams."

"I offered my services, Theo, but alas, you say that I am 'not as good as Dru.'" Blaise snorted, not at all a bit bitter.

Theo groaned. "Please! Help a mate out!"

Blaise chuckled as he snatched the ball out of the air, walking over to sit by Daphne. Pansy soon stomped down the stairs, huffing and cursing all the while.

"Gah! That stubborn girl!"

"Well?" Daphne asked hopefully.

Pansy sighed, shaking her head. "Well, she's finally gotten out of bed. But she refuses to go to supper. As she claims, 'If I even _see_ his stupid, ridiculous, and gloating smirk, Pans, I swear I'll hex it off. Better yet, I slap it off that evil little cockroach of a face!'"

Blaise and Theo snickered at Pansy's overdramatic antics while Daphne rolled her eyes.

"I would pay to see that!" Theo snorted.

Daphne glared at him; Theo quickly sobered up and sat up straighter than a pin. Daphne sighed, turning back to Pansy. "Well, you tried. Hopefully, she will feel better tomorrow..."

Blaise sighed. "I'll see if I can talk to her again during our block. She can't just waste away in her room, pouting because they lost the match. It was even her fault! It was stupid Flint's illegal moves that cost them so many points."

"Don't you think we already tried to tell her that?" Pansy snipped, wrinkling her nose. "She's as stubborn as she is awesome!"

"Is that a compliment or...?"

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Shut up, Theo!"

"Hey! Leave me alone! I'm the victim here."

"Shut it, Theo!"

* * *

Eventually, Dru crawled out of her despondent and pitiful "woe-is-me-party" as Pansy lovingly referred to it as. Dru saw it more like a small "break" before Final fell upon them. As she was happy she dedicated the majority of the time studying and preparing. It was worth it when she saw all the excellent marks come back. Even Professor Snape, ever snooty and picky as he was with grades, gave her an _Outstanding_. The only exam to cause her grief was Herbology, as always, and surprisingly Defense Against the Dark Arts. She had conquered a vast majority of the obstacles with relative ease and confidence, but when she came upon the Boggart again... She froze.

It was the Grim, like last time, but she had forgotten how strong and overpowering the fear was. She hesitated, and it had cost her points. Still, he received high marks, but not a perfect score as Harry had received.

Speaking of which, it seemed they were back to hating each other again. With how Dru blackmailed them into owing her favors and the failed defense of Buckbeak, the Boy Wonder's glares never ceased throughout all of the Final Exams. In fact, Dru noticed his and his loyal goons missing for several days, just after the final exam was taken.

She shrugged it off, focusing on how exams were _finally_ over and she could actually enjoy her final weekend at Hogwarts. That is until the rumors started.

"Dru!" Pansy called from the Slytherin table, already munching on her breakfast. She frantically waved her hand to beckon the girl over. Dru rolled her eyes before plopping into her seat, snatching a warm biscuit to smear some jam on it.

"Yes, Pansy." Dru chirped, munching happily on her breakfast.

"Did you hear? Sirius Black escaped last night!"

Dru balked, almost spitting out her morning tea. "He _what_?!"

"Pansy!" Daphne chastised. "Details!"

"Right, right. Well, no one knows for _sure_ how he did, but what we do know is that Buckbeak escaped along with him. I think some fifth years saw him _flying_ on his back, but that's bloody impossible because those beasts are just plain murderous. Others say he escaped through the Chamber of Secrets and the bird-thing was a distraction. _I _think he had some help on the inside, of course, just don't know who!" Pansy prattled on, chewing loudly on her hotcakes.

Dru nodded, chewing her lip thoughtfully. "I think I may have an idea as to who..."

* * *

"Alright!" Dru hissed, yanking on Harry's arm. She caught him walking out of the Hospital Wing, just behind Hermione and Weasel. She was squeezing his forearm incredibly tight, drawing out an "ouch!" from Harry. "Spill it! What _exactly_ did you have to do with Buckbeak and Sirius Black escaping the other night?"

Harry balked. "What, what do you mean-"

"Let's speak the pretenses of you denying you know anything about it, me threatening you, you denying it yet again, and me following through on the said threat." Dru shoved him away, drawing up her wand. "Now. _Spill_!"

"And why should I tell you anything!" Harry snarked, eyes blazing as he drew out his own wand impossibly fast. "You got me in trouble with Snape!"

Dru rolled her eyes. "No, Harry, that would your own dumb fault."

"Please. You ratted us out!"

"I'm not a rat, Harry," She growled, raising her wand at him. "Now, you _will_ tell me not because you owe me, but because you asked me to help you find information about Sirius Black and I did _just_ that. Besides, Harry, it seems you forget that he is _family_ to me."

Harry snorted. "He's a distant cousin. Stretching that pretty thin with that one."

Dru didn't move her wand; neither did Harry. She still isn't sure to this day of why exactly Harry dropped his wand. "Fine," He drawled, shoving his wand into his robe. "But we can't talk about it out here. Come on."

Harry pulled out a blank piece of parchment, muttering some enchantment before ink exploded from its center. Dru blinked in utter amazement, too shocked to even rebuke Harry for snatching her hand and dragging her along to an empty classroom just down the corridor. When they entered, Harry let her go to quickly close the door. He folded the paper away and shoving it in his robe.

"What the bloody hell is _that_, Harry!" She shrieked, her annoyance bubbling over. "Just how many _priceless_ magical artifacts do you have?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Nothing you should care about, Dru."

Dru snorted. "I'll find out someday. In the meantime, _spill_!"

He inhaled deeply before strolling over to a desk. He sat on it, gathering his wits before he started.

And he told her. _Everything_. Harry didn't know exactly why he told her every detail, seeing as how he could've lied or withheld a lot of information. But there was a sneaky suspicion in his chest she would just figure out the truth and hex him for lying. Harry did not want to be on the receiving end of any more of her hexes.

He told her about how they had gone to comfort Hagrid about Buckbeak's execution, drawing out a small slither of guilt for her part in the creature's trial. He went on about how they left before the professors could catch them, and how they suddenly saw the Grim, dragging Ron away towards the Whomping Willow with the help of Hermione's cat-thing, Crookshanks.

"Hold on, hold on," Dru interrupted, snorting at how utterly ridiculous this story was so far. Then again, this sort of thing only happens to _Harry Potter_. So why should she be so surprised? "So the Grim _is_ real?"

Harry glared at her. "I was _getting_ to that, Dru."

Dru shrugged, wavering her hand vaguely. "Well hurry up and get to it then!"

He carried on, ignoring her rudeness in favor to finish the story. He talked about how he and Hermione chased the dog and Ron and cat into the Shrieking Shack through a secret passage. There, they found that Sirius Black _was_ the dog, and he was after Scabbers. Professor Lupin then came running in, greeting the man as an old friend. They explained to the kids how it was actually Peter Pettigrew who was the Secret Keeper; he was the one who betrayed the Potters, leading to their demise as well as the demise of twelve other. He cut off his finger to fake his own death, hiding out as the Weasley's pet rat in his Animagus form.

Then, Professor Snape had shown up, disguised under Harry's Cloak of Invisibility that he so carelessly dropped. Dru snorted at that part; of course, _he_ would lose the priceless thing! They stunned him, before carrying him and Peter Pettigrew out of the Shrieking Shack. However, it was a full moon, and Professor Lupin was actually a werewolf!

Harry waited for Dru to be shocked, astounded by the information about one of their beloved professors. She only nodded.

"Why aren't you having a tiffy about it?" Harry whined.

"Because I'm not stupid like you, you dolt." Dru sneered, crossing her arms across her chest. "Figured it out after the werewolf lesson with Professor Snape."

Harry snorted; of she did. Her and Hermione were bloody brilliant; it was terrifying.

Anyways, he carried on about how he and everyone fled from werewolf Lupin. Somehow, he and Sirius ended up surrounded by dozens of dementors. They were about to perform the Dementor's Kiss on the both of them before a powerful Patronus saved them.

Suddenly, Dru stood up and punched Harry's arm-_hard_.

"OW!" Harry shouted, clutching his throbbing shoulder. "What the bloody hell was that for?"

"Because you're _stupid_ and could've died, _again_!" Dru screeched.

Harry blinked, frowning. "Don't you think I knew that at the time?"

Dru wondered how he must've been feeling. All the happiness, being drained out of him. An emotionless void awaited him as the creature's lips grew closer. _The Nothingness_... Always surrounding you, never leaving...

Dru squeezed his hand, enjoying it's warmth, before withdrawing it. Harry blinked but didn't say a word about it before continuing. He came to in the Hospital Wing with Hermione, Weasel, and Headmaster Dumbledore. The older man encouraged them that they had the chance to change the events of tonight and save two lives. Harry had been confused, but Hermione realized what he meant. She had a Time-Turner, given to her by Professor McGonagall to help with classes. They used it to save Buckbeak and Sirius.

"And as I stood there, waiting for, for..." Harry paused, his voice croaking. Dru chewed her lip, waiting for him to continue. "Anyways, it was actually the future me who saved the past me at the Lake. I casted the Patronus, and it worked."

"What form did it take?"

Harry let out a watery smile. "A Stag."

Dru nodded. "So, your godfather is innocent but is still wanted by all of the Wizarding Community. How unfortunate."

He let out a bitter laugh, running his hand through his hair. "Yeah, it would seem so."

"Well, I'll expect you to be staying at the Leaky Cauldron again?"

"No," He said. "I'm staying with my aunt and uncle again this summer."

Dru let out a disgusted sound. "But they were awfully terrible, weren't they?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, but I can't spend all my money on lodging again. Besides, Dumbledore convinced them to let me stay again."

"If I were you, I would casually remind them that your godfather _is, in fact,_ a convicted murderer and you remain in correspondence with him..."

A pause, then an explosion of laughter. "Huh, guess I could mention that."

Dru snickered. "I bet they'd be pissing their pants, huh?"

He nodded before moving to stand. Sheepishly scratching the back of his head, he looked to Dru. "Best be going, Hermione and Ron are probably waiting for me somewhere."

Dru nodded, standing with him. They left the class with Harry holding the door open for Dru. _Maybe he does have a decent bone in his egotistical head_.

"Thank you for telling me." Dru suddenly said, ignoring his curious gaze. "I won't tell a soul."

"Thank you," Harry said, strolling down the corridor. He paused, suddenly, and turned back to her. "Happy Birthday, Dru."

Dru smiled softly. "Thanks, Harry."

And they parted ways, the haunting future yet to burden their shoulders.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**First, I would like to apologize for such a large delay in the posting of this chapter. My hopes had been early September, but yet here we are in mid-October. I hugely underestimated how _long_ this chapter would be. Over 35k+ to give you an idea. Don't worry, I enjoyed writing and re-reading every minute of it. Still looking for a Beta! ;)**

**Now onto the chapter!**

**Personally, this chapter has been the biggest arc development so far with Harry and Dru. I wasn't sure at first if I wanted to be so involved with each other this year. Originally, I was going to keep them as adversaries for a great majority of this year and let them become friends in the fourth year. It seemed more organic, however, with how they were over the Summer holiday to the moment in the tunnel. I'm proud of how it is developing, especially with how Dru is still willing to manipulate Harry for her personal gain.**

**One of my favorite parts of Dru's character development this year was her interaction with Flint. I really wanted a lead character to be able to take a situation like hers into her own hands. Also, I saw it as an opportunity for her and Hermione to bond. Their shared moment off the Pitch _will_ be important in upcoming arcs, so keep that in the back of your mind. **

**Another _big_ thing for Dru this year was her dealing with her oncoming depression. Yes, that it was The Nothingness was largely referring to, along with her insecurities and an overwhelming amount of stress from her father and friends. This _will_ be very, very important to Dru's character development over the rest of the series, playing a very important role come Year 6. I really wanted to emphasize how horribly Dru handles it, and that that behavior will severely cost her in the future.**

**A final note I would like to make is Dru's unspoken attraction with Blaise and, _I suppose_, with Harry. For her, in this arc, it's more like unspoken observations that are striking to her. We will see how these emotions will play out come Year 4. Also, keep a lookout for Harry and Ron owing Dru those favors! It will be important to come later on, but I won't say when.**

**Onto scheduling and future installments. Yes, I plan to continue this series. I personally love how Dru is developing. Also, I fucking love Pansy and Daphne' they're fucking great. Sadly, Year 4 _will not be posted unti__l__ 2020! _I am so, so sorry, but my classes this term have been _hard_ and I was personally not mentally well for a large majority of September. Chickadees, anything in science is _hard_! But please keep a lookout for the next update sometime in January or early February. Keep checking my profile for updates and deadlines!**

**Finally, THANK YOU FOR ALL THE LOVE AND SUPPORT. You guys make me blush and super thankful that I've shared this work with you. Please show your support by leaving reviews and following the work. All of you are sweet and so, so kind! 3**

**Until next time loves!**

**-maurik xx**


	4. Part Four: The Fourth Year

**AU. Druella Malfoy didn't know exactly what this year held, but from Father's increasing paranoia and Mother's resignation to drinking wine with her breakfast, it surely can't be good. She thought the World Quidditch Cup would be their chance to be a family, as childishly as she had dreamed. Instead, it showed the pressing dangers of being a Malfoy**—**and the inherent duties that come with it. There will be a choice that Dru must make in the upcoming years, but for now, she will turn a blind eye to her family's impending upheaval, and enjoy the Tri-Wizard Tournament. But ignorance can only be bliss for so long, especially with Harry Potter at the center of her family's turmoil...**

* * *

Dru didn't bother to say a word as she traveled with her family to the Quidditch World Cup. There wasn't much _to_ say. Father was keeping to his stoic face, while Mother held her head up, only looking towards the upcoming hill where the portal key laid on their estate. It left Dru with an uneasy, but all to familiar silence shared by her family.

It had been like this the whole summer. Once again, Dru found herself to be the only one left behind in England while her friends left the country to explore the world. Daphne, in a sudden change of events, went to Milan for her summer break with her little sister and mother. Her father had stayed behind, too busy with work according to her friend. Theo went to Bulgaria this time with his uncle, no doubt exploring the desolate lands for some odd reason his uncle comes up with this time. She certainly didn't envy him, seeing as how unpleasant the place seemed from Father's stories. Pansy took to the States this time, deciding she would spend her summer on the East Coast with her father while he was away on business. She had told Dru where she was going to be staying, but she had long forgotten the city name. Blaise, surprisingly, was also in Milan this summer. He was there this time with Husband #4, a rich, cynical man whose weakness was Blaise's mother's smile and legs.

It seemed that every summer, Dru was left behind. She lived with Mother while Father traveled the world. He explored cities like Tokyo, Rome, and Egypt, all the while Dru took to exploring the oddities of Malfoy Manor. Curiously enough, he had stayed home more often than not this past summer. It was something that left Dru in an uneasy state rather than a contented one.

This was largely due in part to Father's erratic behavior.

He lived in the study during these past months. Always secret meetings with the door locked and solidly so. Whenever Dru would try to take a peek in or eavesdrop, it was always harsh and gargled words through the thick wooden door. After a while, she heard no sound at all. Dru believed that to be due to Father not taking too kindly to her new station—sitting in the black leather couch just outside his office. The only words she did hear were "Cup," "Tournament," and "Crouch."

She spent weeks trying to piece together what her father could've meant. Surely it had something to do with the World Quidditch Cup. And perhaps the word "Crouch" wasn't meant as a verb, but the name of Barty Crouch Sr., the head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. He was attending the match, as per all important figures in the British Ministry, so perhaps there was a correlation there. But, "tournament"? What tournament? It left Dru searching for answers that she wouldn't find at all this summer. Answer she desperately needed.

Because if she knew what was going on with Father, maybe she can keep some semblance of normalcy in her home and avoid a repeat of her second year.

She thought that last Christmas was a change in Father, but Dru was wrong. She detests being wrong.

"Druella, dear." Lucius Malfoy barked. He motioned to the port key, a beautiful ornate vase. "Please place your hand on it so we may leave."

Dru nodded, wrapping her fingers tightly on its lip. Suddenly, like a hook was being attached to her stomach, she was pulled up and then down into the emptiness of the vase, the image of green grass the last thing she saw.

Then, she was here, at the World Quidditch Cup.

_I will find my answers here_, Dru thought to herself, her nose scrunching as she stomped behind her parents. _Family first, always_.

* * *

She expected the Weasel clan and friends to attend, but not Hermione Granger and Harry Potter. But, as she observed them sit in their seats, it was something she should have expected. Those three were inseparable when Weasel and Harry weren't being twats to Hermione and Hermione wasn't be a snob and a goody-goody. Surely you can't have one without the other two?

"Good evening, Arthur." Father greeted, a stiff nod towards the fuming red-haired patriarch. "Mrs. Weasley."

"Hullo, Lucius." Dru figured him to be a warm and oafish person at heart with how his whole family is always red in the cheeks, but the coldness in his tone rivaled that of Father's. Still, Father would win that contest; he always won. "Mrs. Malfoy," He nodded a bit more kindly at Mother who nodded back to him, just as proper as a calculating and bored witch could be. Then, he turned to Dru. His face softened even further, showing more and more of the warmth she expected of the pure-bloods. "Druella."

"Hullo, Mr. Weasley," she easily greeted, turning her focus on the Weasel clan.

She stared mercilessly at them, taking them all in. Same hand-me-down clothes for the vast majority, but the older two boys, Billius and Charles if she remembered correctly, had... _unique_ senses of styles to say the kindest. Percival Weasley didn't even bother to look at her, too entranced by the tediously boring and uptight Mr. Crouch Sr. The twins gave her shared looks of disgust much like the Weasel's and Weaselette's. Hermione gave her a brief nod before returning to her omnioculars. Harry just stared straight back at her, blinking owlishly

She quickly looked away, frazzled. Since when was he the one to stare so blatantly like herself? Just what was that stupid boy doing?

She and her parents quickly took to their prime seats, enjoying the cushioned couches in the Minister's box. It wasn't long before Father left to attend to "work matters" and then Mother saw an old friend that she "simply must chat with dear!" It left Dru all alone in their seats. She crossed her legs other, the Irish jersey itching her skin. She fumbled with its long sleeves, too hot for a humid summer night but perfect for the cooled viewing box.

At least she could enjoy her loneliness in peace.

As much as she adored Quidditch and fancied the talented and quite handsome Victor Krum, she found herself dazing off all too often. She ignored the commotion when the Veela and leprechauns came, drawing thunderous roars from the hundred thousand viewers. She was oblivious when the Irish seeker crashed multiple times in failure to catch the Golden Snitch and the several fights that broke amongst the stands and in the skies. She was only shaken out of her stupor when she saw the dazzlingly brilliant Victor Krum hold the Golden Snitch in his hand. It left her worriedly biting her lip at the thought of her team's loss. She glanced at the private scoreboard in the viewing box. A sigh of relief. Thankfully, the Irish still won because of their significant lead.

It was when Victor Krum was doing a victory lap when Father returned, face as cool and serious as ever.

"Come now, Druella." He ordered, already offering his hand to guide his daughter from the box. "Off to the tent."

Dru mutely nodded, too dazed to contest his order.

She couldn't stop thinking of how Father seemingly jumped at the smallest sound or a sudden movement. He was like a caged animal, pacing and ever-observant. Yes, her father was a watchful man, but he was never like this. He was never on the cusp of paranoia, dangerously walking the line between insanity and protectiveness. It left Dru more worried and anxious than safe. Her fingers wouldn't stop curling in on themselves. She couldn't stop chewing her lip. She couldn't stop staring at how tightly Father clutched his beautiful cane, his wand; it turned his knuckles white.

She was _terrified_. Something was going to happen, but she didn't know what. Dru despised not knowing things.

The walk back to their luxurious tent was long and tense. Twice Father had stopped her, looking hawkishly past the dizzying array of tents and wizards. Dru never said a word; she only clutched her wand tightly after the second time. _Family first, always_.

"Rest for the night, Druella." Father finally said as they reached the flap entrance. "We'll be heading out early tomorrow morning. Your mother will return shortly. Until then, please do not leave the tent or invite others into the tent, seeing at how it's quite passed your curfew. Do you understand?"

_No, I don't understand. Why do you never tell me anything? Why must you place us all on edge? Wy must you drive Mother to drink? Why must I always have to go behind your back to find answers that are rightfully mine? When did you stop being my father?_

"Yes, Father. Goodnight."

Without another glance, she stepped inside.

She waited all of two minutes before leaving, intent on finding her father.

It wasn't hard to find the distinctive head of long white-gold hair. He seemed to rely more and more on his cane to walk, Dru noticed as her father quickly hobbled up the hill. She stuck to the shadows, hiding behind tents and merging into the drunk crowds coming back from the match. She was able to stay with him for a few minutes, going as far as to the back of the gathering of tents, towards the woods of the field, before she lost him.

She clutched her wand tighter into her palm, the hawthorn wood warm to the touch. The snort that escaped her accompanied her frantic search for her father. Whipping her head around, all she saw was the low lights of the torches, the stars, and the overwhelming darkness of the woods.

She quickly made her way back to her tent, pulling the large jacket closer around her. Her hands were shoved into its pockets, her wand stuck in her front pocket. As it poked into her side as she trudged up another hill, it left a lingering presence. Her wand always seemed to be warm whenever everything else seemed so cold. A comfort Dru never realized she would come to appreciate over the years. Especially now as drunk men leered so disgustingly over her, calling her to turn around and stay awhile—"Oh come on doll face! Just come show us that pretty face of yours! We just wanna see you smile!" She ignored them, pressing on faster.

Hair strands were blowing gently into her face when she first heard the blood-curdling scream. Dru immediately stopped, whipping her wand out as she looked. The warm lights of the torches along the tents left much to be desired in her sight. Everything was hazy and yellow and still too dark as she searched for the woman. It hurt her to think that she would hope the woman would scream again, just only to know where _not_ to run; there were Aurors for that.

She didn't have to wait long, as more and more started screaming. And suddenly, a mob was overwhelming her. She was being pushed and shoved back as people were running past her. Dru looked to where they were running from and saw it.

She saw people, floating in the air. But it wasn't simply them floating around peacefully and enjoying the night sky. They were contorted into impossible positions, their faces screaming. No sound came out. Their faces: forever stuck in a looping state of terror and pain. One woman was raised upside down, her dress covering her face as her black underwear braced the world; it slowly began to disintegrate as a man in mask cackled, wand burning an angry red. Torches were knocked aside, catching tents and barrels on fire. People stumbled and fell, tripping over one another. Dru bit back a gasp of horror when saw someone trapped under a burning tent, eyes blank and unmoving.

She saw a mass of people in cloaks and hoods approach her. All of Robert's grounds were lit aflame, a dark smoke enshrouding the area. Children cried and families ran for the portkeys.

_Did, did Father...? Did he...?_

Dru ran for the woods, sure the darkness would protect her from the horror and realizations.

* * *

She didn't make it quite far as she tripped over something large, warm, and soft.

"Ugh!" She cried, holding her ankle close to her. She pulled out her wand, furiously crying out "_Lumos!_" To her utter shock, she saw that it was an unconscious Harry Potter, slowly waking up. "_Nox!_" She shoved her wand into her jacket, crawling over to the boy. She shook him vigorously, rattling the poor wizard.

"Bloody hell." She hissed. "Harry! Get up! Quickly now!"

He blinked slowly. He blinked again, green eyes focusing on Dru's sneering face. "Dr-Dru?"

She sighed, tugging on his arm. "We have to go!" Dru pulled him up by his forearm. He stumbled into her a bit, dazed and confused as he stared around the now smoldering remains of tents.

He blinked again, looking to the girl. "What happened?"

"Death Eaters." She barked, tugging him along to run to the woods. He cried in pain as he stumbled along, finally dropping to his knees. He clutched his head tightly, hissing and moaning in pain. Dru frantically looked around. They couldn't stop here, not out in the open like this. "Harry! We have to go!"

She tried to pull him along, but he was too heavy for the girl. She snorted in annoyance, wondering why she even bothered to stop and help him if he was only going to get her killed! Dru ignored how her heart raced faster and faster, thundering so loud in her chest she could barely hear the screams of terror now. She somehow heard grunting to their left. To her horror, she saw one of the masked Death Eaters stalking towards them, wand at the ready.

Dru quickly stood to her feet, pointing her wand at the wizard. "_Flipendo_!" The man was knocked back several feet, crashing into a still standing tent. Turning back to Harry, she tugged on his hand again. Her heart was climbing into her throat, throbbing as she breathed heavily. He finally looked up, more aware and focused than before. She nodded at him, silver eyes flashing like streaks of the magic behind her. "We have to go. _Now!"_

He stupidly nodded along, letting her tug him along as they ran for the woods. She never let his hand go, worried he would collapse on her as he did before. Dru couldn't afford to stop again. As bitter as it made her think, she would leave him behind if she must. _Family first, always_.

When they finally reached the edge of the clearing, Dru slowed to a walk. She let his hand go, turning around as she kept her wand pointed. Slowly backing into the forest, she took off again. Hopefully this time Harry would actually follow her instead of staying behind to somehow defeat the stupid creature like he had done their first year. When she stopped again, her sides burned for air. She rested her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath. Dru looked over to Harry, who trickled in just behind her. He was heaving just as heavily as she was, but had a crazed look in his eyes. She wondered if she looked just as insane as he did.

"Should... should be safe here." She heaved, clutching her side as she collapsed onto the forest floor. She leaned against a dead tree, not caring for its possible insects crawling on it. Harry joined Dru on the ground, leaning back as she did.

She felt his shoulder brush with hers as he turned towards her. "How... what did—?!"

"Merlin, Harry!" She suddenly hissed, glaring ruthlessly at the stupid wizard. Her fingers itched to slap him. "Why were you just _laying_ on the ground during the middle of a pissing riot?"

He frowned, glaring at her. "I was running with Ron and Hermione, then I lost them. Suddenly, I was on the ground, and something hit my head." Dru looked at his head, seeing a large bump forming just above his left ear. She winced at how lopsided he looked now. He scowled, gingerly holding his head to cover the bump. "Well don't just look at it!"

She rolled her eyes, surveying the small clearing they'd found. "Don't be such a priss, Harry. Just a bump is all."

"Should we keep going?" He asked, worriedly looking past the rotten trees and bushes.

Dru nodded, standing to her feet. She turned to him, offering a hand. He scowled as he took it, not enjoying her smug face one bit. Of course, she _would_ enjoy being the one to drag the pathetic Boy-Who-Lived around. They slowly pressed forward, walking the opposite direction of the still present, but now dull, roars of terror. Harry walked beside her, twisting his head every so often to search the woods. Neither spoke to the other, too antsy and hypervigilant to care for small talk.

They finally reached the other side of the woods, reaching the southeast corner of the grounds. To their utter horror, all that remained of the hundreds of tents were smoking piles of dark ash. An occasional fire littered the ground. Only the light of the half-moon shone brightly, illuminating the horrors of the camp.

Dru frowned, curling her lip. "This is most likely where they started the riot. They have moved on to the rest of the grounds. We should be fine here for the most part."

"Right." Harry gulped, taking care to not step on the piles of destroyed tents. They walked through the grounds, navigating their way through in search of help.

There was a loud crash. Harry pushed Dru to the ground, crouching with her as they hid behind barrels of butterbeer. His body covered hers, blanketing her in sudden warmth and an overwhelming crushing sensation. She was about to sneer in reply, but Harry placed a hand over her mouth, shushing her. Her eyes flashed dangerously at how rude and grabby he had been acting but looked to where he was pointing.

There stood a man, not even ten meters away from them. He wore a dark cloak, sweeping behind him as he kicked through the rubble. She could literally _feel_ the danger coming from the dark wizard. Dru stared at him in fear, never blinking away for a second. Her heart raced faster and faster. He walked closer and closer towards them, lazily strolling through the aftermath of the riot. Harry pulled his hand away from her mouth, seizing her hand. She held onto it tightly. She didn't care if she was squeezing too tight. All she knew was that there was a Death Eater, a murderer most likely, who would kill them without a second thought if they were spotted.

She held her wand at the ready, anticipating him to find them. She would be ready. She would do _anything_ to come out alive. Anything.

Instead, he finally stood. Slowly, he pointed his wand to the sky. A deep voice breathed out of him as he screamed into the night, "_Morsmorde_!"

Harry and Dru looked up to the sky in horror as a brilliant flash of green blinded them. Slowly, the light slithered into the night sky, morphing into a large skull. It unhinged its jaw, a serpent pushing past it as it wrapped around it. A green smog surrounded the image, lighting the grounds in an emerald green hue.

The Death Mark. The Death Eaters finally claimed the terror of a night as theirs.

The man fled after he had cast the calling card, running into the woods.

"_Stupefy_!"

Sudden bolts of red flashed at the duo as they ducked for cover. Dru covered her head with her hands but found another weight on top of her—Harry, no doubt. Chilavourous and _stupid_ as ever. She heard a cry to stop. Slowly, she looked up to see Mr. Weasley running towards them.

He helped Dru and Harry up to their feet, checking them over. Another man stomped towards them, wand raised and pointing at Dru.

"Drop your wand! Now!"

Dru refused, gripping it tightly as she glared at the ever pompous and self-righteous Barty Crouch Sr. Behind him stood the Minister and an Auror she recalled as Kingsley Shacklebolt. Harry sighed in relief at the sight of the group of men, but Dru didn't dare let her breath go.

"You! Malfoy!" Mr. Crouch snarled, pushing his wand into her cheek. "You conjured it, didn't you?" Dru refused to answer. "Didn't you?!"

"Bartemius!" Mr. Weasley barked, his anger matching the red on his cheeks and in his greying hair. "She's just a girl! Put your wand away!"

The man finally nodded after a moment, pushing it into his robes. He glared at the girl, eyes flashing in a crazed rage as he looked around. Dru turned to Harry, still holding his hand. He gave her a nod as she let it go, step away from him and the group. Her heart was beating too fast. It tore through her veins, leaving her body stinging as a weak sob escaped her. She looked away from them, shakily inhaling a large breath as the men turned to Harry.

"You alright there, son?" Mr. Weasley asked, looking Harry up and down for injuries. He paused at the large lump on the side of his head. Harry grimaced when he felt it. "Just a bump. Not a problem for my Molly to fix up." He turned back to Dru, frowning at the panicking girl. "Dear, are you—?"

"I'm fine." She snapped, glaring at the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. "Even with a clearly crazed man threatening the life of a _girl_!"

"I would watch your words, Miss Malfoy." Mr. Crouch sneered. "I will _surely_ be investigating your father's involvement with this attack."

"Let's just take the children to safety, yes?" Mr. Shacklebolt calmly said. "It seems that many fled after the mark appeared in the sky."

"Right," the Minister shakily agreed, his face a bit too pale. "Let's carry on, shall we?"

Dru walked behind the group, crossing her arms into her jacket as she glared at the back of Mr. Crouch's head. Harry walked with her, nudging her one with his elbow. She looked at him, raising a brow.

"What, Harry?"

"You alright?"

She sighed at his stupidity. "Clearly, I am _not_ fine, Harry." A pause. Dru saw Harry's face fell, looking back towards Mr. Weasley. She frowned too, rolling her eyes as she crossed her arms into her chest. "But thank you for asking."

Harry nodded at her, his eyes bright in the darkness. They were even more green as the Death Mark shined on all of them. It was almost the same color, but Harry's shone much better in the night sky. Even in the midst of darkness and chaos, he always seemed to shine a little brighter than most.

Dru didn't bother trying to give him a smile. Why would she, when she was clearly not happy?

She squeezed his shoulder quickly, however. It would've been missed by how fast she tucked her arm back into her jacket if Harry hadn't felt it. Harry did let out a small grin, happy to be alive yet again, and thanks only to the always terrifying Druella Malfoy.

* * *

To say she was admonished would be an understatement. In all her years, she had never seen Father so _angry_ with her. Dru is one to cause strife here and there with her equally matched curiosity and entitlement, but this was entirely different.

She first noticed when the troop of men escorted her and Harry to the main Ministry ten, set centered of the now decimated campgrounds. Dru saw hordes of witches and wizards, scrambling about. A Healer station had already been set up, tending to the wounded. Dru choked back a gasp when she saw the Muggle couple that had been hanging in the air earlier that night. They were unrecognizable; their battered and bruised bodies laid to rest as a Healer pulled a blanket over them.

She walked closer to Harry after that, shoulders brushing each other. He didn't say anything, but his body leaned on hers too.

Dru saw small groups of Aurors parade through the grounds, searching for straggling victims or Death Eaters alike. In fact, there was a small group tied up together, sat off to one side of the main tent with a group of three Aurors on watch-duty. Dru shivered when a greasy man caught her eye, cruelly smirking at her before bowing his head.

Father stood just at the entrance of the tent, currently arguing with an Auror. He caught Dru's eyes just as he placed his cane on the wizard's shoulder, digging deep into it. He released him though, trudging forward to meet his daughter.

"Druella Lucia!" He barked.

Dru winced at her full name, knowing all too well what would come next. She parted from the group, standing before her father with her head bowed in shame. "Hello, Father."

Suddenly, he seized the girl into his arms, hugging her so tightly that Dru couldn't even draw in her gasp of surprise. Father was never one for public displays of affection. Just how troubled was he that she was missing? He quickly pulled away, jutting her chin forward as he looked her over.

He nodded to himself, but taking her hand and pulling her away. Lucius Malfoy caught Mr. Weasley's eyes, giving him a curt nod as they made their way to leave towards their port key. Dru offered Harry a small wave; he gave her a small grimace as one of the healers went to touch his bump.

The walk to the port key was as silent as their walk earlier that day to the World Cup. Her father never let her hand go, not until they finally reached the vase at the crest of the hill. When they appeared at the edge of the estate, he finally turned to her, eyes blazing in fury.

"I strictly told you to stay in the tent!" He seethed, his grey eyes as sharp and cold as steel. Dru had become immune to his glare over the years, but now, as she stood cold, tired, and terrified, she barely withheld a sobbing hiccup. She held his gaze though as any Malfoy would. "What idea encouraged you to even _think_ about disobeying me."

Dru was at a loss. She knew she couldn't say she had been following him when the riot reached her. "I heard screams, and thought to run to the port key."

He let out an angry puff of air before snatching her forearm and dragging her to Malfoy Manor. Gone was his concern; in its place was wrath so insurmountable that it weighed poor Dru down. She was sinking in it, unable to escape it. She didn't bother trying to pull free from his grasp.

When they finally reached the Drawing Room, Dru's mother ran over to her, clutching her tight.

"Druella!" She cried, tears streaming down her face. "Are you alright, love? Scratches? Bruises?" She turned towards the kitchen, barking, "Spiffy!" The house-elf appeared at once. "Grab some lavender tea for Druella. Make sure to add some honey to it."

Dru stared blankly at her mother. She let her hold her in her arms, never letting her eyes leave her father's. He finally sighed, collapsing into his chair. He pinched his nose, looking more old and tired than Dru had ever seen. She always assumed he would live and healthily with how young many say he looks. But now, as the fear and anger weighed him down, she worried for him.

"We will speak about this in the morning. I find myself too tired to deal with this incident. Please retire to your room, Druella."

She nodded, pulling herself from Narcissa's arms. She trudged up the stairs to her wing. Once behind the wall, however, Dru paused. She waited.

"Lucius!" Her mother screamed a moment later. "I thought you said she would be safe!"

"I thought as well!" He sneered back. A pause. Soft thuds. _He was pacing_. "But it appears these _stupid_ men didn't know a Malfoy when they see one. A majority of them fled when the mark appeared. Surely the Dark Lord will not be pleased with how much of a failure tonight was."

Her mother sighed. "Why must you be involved in this again, Lucius? Haven't we already served him well? I'm sure once my sister is freed, we can—"

"You know just as well as I do why we can't leave." He suddenly barked, voice shaking even Dru to her core in terror. He wasn't her father. He was a crazed man. "We have to protect her, Narcissa."

Her mother sighed again, much more forlorn and heartbroken than before. "Please, Lucius. I find myself too tired to argue. We, we almost lost her tonight..."

"Yes, my dear."

And Dru quickly ran to her room, quietly closing the door behind her.

So, her suspicions had been right. Dru expected to be pleased, to feel relieved to _finally_ know what he had been fretting about these past weeks. Instead, an unsurmountable dread grasped her. It rivaled The Nothingness. It stayed with her for the rest of the night and followed her for the rest of the Summer Holiday.

_Protect me from what? Or... From who?_

* * *

As Dru stood patiently for the Hogwarts train to arrive, she was attacked by a large lump of snickers and bags.

"Dru!" Pansy happily cried, squeezing the Malfoy tightly into her chest Dru blushed in embarrassment, struggling to push away from the embarrassing scene. Pansy only squeezed tighter, snorting to herself.

"Pansy, dear," Daphne drawled, wrinkling her nose at the sight of the two girls. "Let Dru go before those breasts of yours suffocate her."

The Parkison girl released Dru with a sheepish grin, gesturing to her chest with a wide smile. "Sorry. Forgot about those, ya know?"

Dru rolled her eyes, pulling Daphne into a tight hug. "Thank you. I couldn't breathe for a second."

Daphne smiled. "Pansy attacked me too earlier. I had to resort to some unpleasant methods to find safety again."

"She means me." Blaise Zabini smirked, wrapping his arm around Daphne, a quick peck to the cheek. "I had to pull the monster off her before my girlfriend—oof!"

"Blaise!" Daphne shrieked, swatting him away. "We were supposed to them together!"

"Tell us what, exactly?" Dru said, her eyes sharpening at the pair.

Blaise cleared his throat before sending his two friends a charming smile. "Daphne and I are dating."

Dru blinked. Pansy blinked. Both blinked again. Then, they shrugged, carrying towards the incoming Hogwarts Express.

"Well, I think it went better then I thought it would," Blaise whispered into Daphne's ear, sneaking in a quick kiss to the shell of her ear before dragging her after the two girls. Daphne followed, dazed and confused at her friend's reaction.

But on the inside, Dru was brewing in confusion and anger. She didn't know why her chest was seizing so tightly as she sat beside Pansy, avoiding the, the... _canoodling_ of the two lovebirds. She couldn't understand why she simultaneously wanted to cry and scream and yell jinxes at Blaise and even Daphne. It was overwhelming and bloody pathetic. And if anything, Dru _hates_ being pathetic.

Pansy was oblivious to Dru's meltdown, enjoying the chocolate frogs she snatched from the trolly earlier.

Dru suddenly stood, her robes swishing behind her as she stepped towards the door.

"Where are you going, dear?" Daphne asked, leaning away from Blaise's shoulder.

Dru tensed. "Powder room."

Pansy snorted. "Don't get caught by a dementor again!" She flinched at the harsh glares from the couple sent her way. "Oops! Sorry, too soon?"

"No, Pans," Dru giggled, feeling the weight from her chest shape into knobbly hands reaching to choke her neck. "You're fine."

She left them with those parting words, trying to understand how The Nothingness always seizes the words she so desperately she wanted to say to her friends:

_I'm not okay._

* * *

She saw Harry, Weasel, and Hermione much like the year before: chatting in a compartment to themselves. This time, Dru saught their attention. Anything to distract her.

"Well if it isn't the Boy Wonder and his friends." Dru cheered, taking a seat beside Harry. Graciously crossing her leg over the other, she smirked at how quickly red Weseal's face became. Hermione only offed a tight nod her way, crossing her arm and sharpening her eyes at the Slytherin. Harry just sighed, leaning back into the seat.

"Hullo, Dru." He offered, trying to not laugh at how awfully red Ron's face was becoming.

"What, what, what the bloody hell do you think you're doing here!" Weasel finally roared, sputtering in annoyance.

"Snake caught your tongue?" She sneered, cackling to herself. She turned to Hermione, finally noticing her more appealing appearance.

"I see you have finally tamed that lion's mane, Hermione," Dru said. "One could say you look marvelous today."

Weasel's jaw dropped as Hermione rolled her eyes, replying, "One could say your attitude is tolerable today, Dru."

"Since when have you been friends with _her_?!" The redhead demanded, gesturing hopelessly at the still giggling Dru.

Hermione huffed. "Honestly, Ronald, keep up."

"Yes, _Ronald_," Dru cooed, very voice lilting as she used his full name. "_Do_ keep up."

"Harry!"

His friend only sighed, shrugging helplessly. "What do you expect me to do about it, Ron?"

"But, but, but..."

Dru snickered. "Whether you like or not, Weasel, you'll be seeing me more often than not, especially with the tournament this year." Turning to Harry and Hermione, Dru expectantly looked at them. "Will you both be entering?"

"Entering what?" Harry eloquently asked.

Dru nodded. _So it seems Mr. Weasley does know how to keep a secret. Hmm, Father would be very surprised to know_. "Oh, so you have _not_ been informed. Well, who am I to ruin a surprise?"

"What tournament on you talking about, Dru?" Hermione demanded, narrowing her brown eyes to the girl.

The Slytherin only shrugged, biting her lip to hold back a grin. "You'll see when we arrive, I suppose."

Harry groaned, slouching further into his seat. Dru snorted. "Cheer up, Potter. This year you will be spared the humiliation of your defeat to one Malfoy seeker."

He raised him quickly, scrambling to sit upright again as he answered, "Wait, there's no Quidditch this year?"

Dru only gave them a dazzlingly smile, deciding she achieved her hope to cause mischief with the group. "Suppose you'll learn soon enough at the Welcome Feast!"

"Dru!" Harry and Hermione whined, but they were cut off as Dru slid the compartment door shut. She felt a bit lighter after that fun chat she had. She had forgotten how exhilarating it was to tease them. Yes, she should do that more often.

* * *

Dru found herself in a much better mood as she sat beside Pansy, eagerly waiting for the news of the TriWizard Tournament to be shared. Father had already shared the news with her before her departure to Hogwarts, though a bit stiffly Dru would say. Drumstrang and Beauxbatons would be coming in October, where the competitors will be selected at the Halloween feast. While he Father neglected to tell her of the challenges and other small details, he did mention that some of his _good friends_ will be watching over and the tournament.

That left unpleasant chills running down her back.

Still, she was ecstatic of the idea of competing and then _winning_. Maybe then Father will learn that she isn't some small girl to be protected; she is a witch, and as such, she deserves common decency. On the other hand, to see Harry's face as she held the TriWizard Cup in her hand would oh so delicious.

"Dru!" Pansy nudged her, pointing to Headmaster Dumbledore. "He's about to give the speech."

The whole Great Hall silenced as their Headmaster cleared his throat. The thunder and howling wind of the raging storm were muddled as his thunderous voice said:

"So!" A kind smile danced on his lips as he warmly glanced around the room. "Now that we are fed and watered, I must ask once more for your attention while I give out a few notices. Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle this year has been extended to include Screaming Yo-Yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office if anybody would like to check it." Snickers from the Weasel twins drew a snort of Dru and Theo, who sat diagonal to her. She didn't remember him coming in, but it didn't bother a curious thought from her.

"As ever," Headmaster Dumbledore continued," I would like to remind you that the Forest on the grounds is out of bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below the third year. It is also my painful duty to inform you that the inter-house Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."

A sudden roar of protest, mostly from the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables, filled the Great Hall. However, it was quickly silenced when Deputy Headmistress McGonagall cleared her throat, her stern eyes frightening even the relaxed seventh-years into silence. She gave a curt nod to Headmaster Dumbledor, who continued:

"This is due to an event that will be starting in October and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts—"

And at that second, there was a deafening rumble of thunder, and the doors of the Great Hall banged open. A man stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff, shrouded in a black traveling cloak. Every head in the Great Hall swiveled towards the stranger, suddenly brightly illuminated by a fork of lightning that flashed across the ceiling. He lowered his hood, shook out a long mane of grizzled, dark grey hair, and then began to walk up towards the teachers' table.

A dull clunk echoed through the Hall on his ever other steps. He reached the end of the top table, turned right and limped heavily towards Dumbledore. Another flash of lightning crossed the ceiling.

The lightning had thrown the man's face into sharp relief.

The stranger reached Dumbledore. He stretched out a hand that was as badly scarred as his face, and Dumbledore shook it, muttering something. He seemed to be making some kind of inquiry of the stranger who shook his head unsmilingly and replied in an undertone. Dumbledore nodded and gestured the man to an empty seat on his right-hand side.

"May I introduce our new Defence Against the Dark Arts Teacher," said Dumbledore brightly, into the silence, "Professor Moody."

Instantly, Dru found her nose scowling in disgust at their new professor. She had heard many stories from Father, detailing to the brisk and foul attitude of the Auror. He was as paranoid as he was brilliant at his job. Why he would come to Hogwarts was beyond her, seeing as how needed he was needed for training the new recruits. His apathetic grunts and nods to the professors echoed her thoughts; clearly, he did not wish to be here, but it seemed he was _needed_, but for what?

And it seemed his sentiment was shared by the students. Typically, the students would applaud after the introduction of a new professor. It seemed that everyone was either too intrigued or afraid of the bizarre and terrifying appearance of Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody. Dru found herself more worried about another replacement come next year: the cursed position as many are referring to it as.

"As I was saying," Headmaster Dumbledore said smiling at the sea of students before him, all of whom were still gazing transfixed at Mad-Eye Moody, "we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event which has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year,"

"You're JOKING!" said Fred Weasley very loudly and obnoxiously, according to Dru.

But it seemed to do the trick to break the stupor of the students. The tension that had filled the Hall ever since Moody's arrival suddenly broke. Nearly everyone laughed, and Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively at one of the Weasel Twins.

"No I am not joking Mr. Weasley," he answered, "Though I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag and a leprechaun who all go into a bar—"

Deputy Headmistress McGonagall cleared her throat loudly.

"Er—but maybe this is not the time… no..." said Dumbledore, sheepishly chuckling at his right-hand woman. "Where was I? Ah, yes, the Triwizard Tournament… well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely. The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago, as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry—Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years and it was generally agreed to be the most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities—until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the Tournament was discontinued.

"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the Tournament," Dumbledore continued, "none of which have been very successful. However, our own Departments of International Magical Co-Operation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that, this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger.

"The Heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang have already arrived, and on Halloween, we will have the Champion Selections. An impartial judge will decide which students, are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school and a thousand galleon personal prize money."

Dru chuckled at the low whispers shared excitedly amongst the students, ogling at the hefty prize and the chance of glory. _Sadly, that title will only be for _me.

"Eager though I know all of you will be able to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts," he said, "the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an agreed restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age— that is to say, seventeen years or older—will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This—"

Dumbledore raised his voice slightly for several people had made noises of outrage at these words; Dru found herself fuming in rage and annoyance.

"—is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the Tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below Sixth and Seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion." His light-blue eyes twinkled as they flickered over to the Weasel Twin's mutinous faces. "I, therefore, beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen.

"The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be staying with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your wholehearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop Chop!"

With his dismissal, Dru found herself sadden by her loss of the chance for glory and recognition. Daphne saw this, warmly smiling at her best friend. It melted away Dru's harsh temper as she said, "There, there, Dru. Think of his announcement like this: Harry Potter surely can't enter it. Maybe this year we will be free of his insistent need for the spotlight."

Dru happily nodded, her anger held for the girl from earlier dissipated. "You're right! Maybe now Harry won't be such a greedy pig!"

"Harry?" Daphne asked; her manicured brow lifted in question and slight disgust.

"We have called a truce now." Dru offered, shrugging her shoulders. She clasped her hands behind her back, a happy skip in her step at the thought of another year of practice for Quidditch: she will _surely_ dominate come their fifth year.

Pansy, having overheard from her own conversation with Blaise, turned around in surprise. "A _truce_?! Since when?"

Dru winced, remembering she hadn't mentioned her sudden friendship with the Boy Who Lived at all. "Um, well, since last year...?"

Pansy seized her arm, hurriedly pulling her down the stairs to the Dungeons. Daphne, huffing, quickly followed to wrap her fingers' around Dru's other arm. "You will _spill_! Now!"

And Dru did, rather sheepishly as they walked back to their dormitory. She kept somethings to herself, like the secret tunnel and their last conversation in the classroom. However, she spilled everything else: their meeting at Diagon Alley, agreeing to a truce, to finally blackmailing him and Weasel for favors. The last part left the girls howling in laughter as they settled into their beds.

"Only you could manage that!" Pansy whispered, jumping into Dru's bed. Daphne followed, choosing to sit on her other side. Tracey and Millie were giggling to themselves on the other side of the shared room, oblivious to Dru's conversation with Pansy and Daphne.

Daphne watched Dru calculatingly, her beautiful blue eyes never looking away until she softly spoke, "Why didn't you share this with us earlier, love?"

Dru hung her head in shame. She was a shotty friend, wasn't she?

"No!" Pansy growled. Oh, she must've said that out loud; how careless of her! "You are not a horrible friend. You are just terribly awful at sharing important information and feelings and, well, actually, yes, yes you are. A terrible friend." Pansy poked Dru in the side, drawing out forced giggled from the Malfoy. "A terrible, awful, bloody no good friend!"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Dru cried, scrambling away towards Daphne's calm and soothing side. "I, well, I'm not sure why I didn't share..."

"Was it because you feared we would hate you?" Daphne suggested, perceptive as ever. Dru sighed, nodding. Daphne jutted her lip in disapproval. "We would never hate you, Dru. You are my sister as much as Pansy and Astoria are."

"Yeah!" Pansy chirped, hugging Dru tightly. "You're stuck with us for a good long while, yeah."

Dru laughed, her eyes watering. Her chest was thrumming, a warm and comforting beat lulling her into contentedness. She hugged both girls tightly before shooing them off her bed. Wishing them sweet dreams, as well as to Tracey and Millie, Dru felt happy. This was happiness: the reassurance of friends and the safety into their support. How could she ever be so lucky to have this?

_Is this what love feels like, too_?

Shaken by her sudden thought, Dru closed her eyes. She chose to think of what the Drumstrang and Beauxbaton students would be like as she fell asleep. Love... Well, a pureblood like would never have to worry for love. It simply wasn't an option. So why should Dru even bother with it?

* * *

To her utter annoyance, she learned she had her two least favorite classes with the Gryffindors: Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures. She would much prefer the Ravenclaw's snootiness, or even the Hufflepuff's annoying cheeriness, to the Gryffindor's "holier-than-thou" attitude. Sadly, Lady Fortuna was never on her side. She must enjoy torturing the Malfoys, Dru decided angrily as she sat through her lecture with the behemoth man. The creatures he chose to study today were baby Blast-Ended Skrewts. They were boring as they were hideous.

She shared her great dislike with the other Slytherins, drawing chuckled with her housemates. However, Harry and Hermione and the Weasel found that to their disliking, giving her glares. Dru only rolled her eyes. As defensive of their giant-man as ever, she thought to herself.

The morning dragged onto the afternoon at a slow and torturous pace. It left Dru grasping on the edge of sanity as she sat through Transfiguration. She truly appreciated the art of the magic, but the constant need to watch herself under the ruthlessly stern Professor McGonagall left her tried and rather cranky. When supper finally arrived, Dru found herself dragging her very tired body towards the Great Hall.

Surprisingly, she found that she had gained shadows _yet again_ like her second year. Her temper had already been boiling throughout the day as annoyance after annoyance increased her fury. Now, now she had no patience left for the day. _No one_ will be spared from her wrath.

Furiously turning on her toe, she glared at the ugly pigs named Goyle and Crabbe.

"If you so much as take another _step_ in my direction, I swear I will jinx so that every time you gluttonous, blithering imbeciles so much as _think_ of sweets, bats and spiders will spill from your idiotic, pudgy faces. Maybe then you'll finally be the oh so _menacing_ bodyguards Father pays you to be! Now leave because Merlin knows you didn't understand a _single_ word as it's simply beyond your limited vocabulary, and I simply cannot stand the sight of your gapping mouths any longer!"

She was quite satisfied at the pale faces of horror that the two large purebloods shared. So much so that she felt her spirits lift higher. Dinner was pleasant enough, leaving Dru with hopeful expectations for the week.

* * *

Of course, she was wrong. Lady Fortuna is certainly a nasty old hag, isn't she?

While Dru despised Herbology and Care for Magical Creatures as much as the next witch, she was truly dreading her Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Her weariness could be placed in how she dragged herself up the winding stairs and down the corridor. Pansy and Theo were particularly enjoying the childishness of her whining; Daphne, however, was not taking to it kindly.

"Honestly, Dru," Daphne sneered. "You're acting more a petulant child then how Pansy acts whenever we go to Arithmancy."

"Hey!"

"Am I wrong?"

"Well... no..."

Dru bristled as she paused before the entrance to the class. "I just find him too..."

"Mad?" Pansy chirped.

"Bloody bonkers?" Theo snickered, holding the door open for the Slytherin girls and a remarkably quiet Blaise.

They all chuckled as they hurried to their seats. It wasn't long after that with a gruff and booming voice that Professor Mad-Eye Moody called for the class to begin. However, it seemed Dru's apprehensiveness was called for with their particular subject for the year.

"Curses." He growled. It left Dru blinking in horror and other Slytherins to gasp in great surprise. The poor Hufflepuffs took it much worse then they did, some even shouting in shock. "Quiet yeh brats!"

There was an intense pause as he hobbled in front of the room, collecting himself before he began:

"Alastor Moody." He grunts, furiously scribbling his name on the board behind him with a stubby piece of chalk. "Ex-Auror, Ministry malcontent... and your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. I'm here because Dumbledore asked me. End of story, goodbye, the end. Any questions?" No one did. Nodding, he continued, "When it comes to the Dark Arts, I believe in a practical approach. But first, who can tell me how many Unforgivable Curses there are?"

Theo, ever the impulsive boy, raised his hand, happy to know something that was happening in his class. With Professor Moody nod to speak, he cleared his throat. "Three, sir."

He wrote "Unforgiveable" on the board below his name, the chalk's scratches sending nervous shivers down Dru's spine. "And they are so named?"

"Because they are, well, _unforgivable_." Tracey Davis nervously squeaked. "The use of even _one_ of them will, well..."

"Earn you a one-way ticket to Azkaban. Correct! The Ministry of Magic says you're too young to see what these curses do. I say different. You need to know what you're up against! You need to be prepared!"

As enthusiastic and terrifying his lecture was, Dru found herself dazing away. She didn't enjoy these topics. She didn't want to learn about the curses her family has become to know all too well.

"Hmm... Parkison!" He shouted. Pansy let out a surprised squeak. "Stand!" She shot out of her seat so fast that Dru was worried her chair would tip over. "Name one!"

"The Imperius Cuse!" She yelped, hurriedly sitting down again to hide behind her crossed arms.

"Yes, yes! The absolute obedience curse. See here now!" He let out a spider from a jar, letting it run along with his wooden desk before he shouted, "_Engorgio_!" The spider grew four times its size, nearly taking up a good chunk of the old desk. "_Imperio_!"

To her horror, she saw the spider begin to dance across the desk, waving it's long, spindly legs around as the class erupted into giggles. Dru, Pansy, and Theo held their grim faces while Blaise only glared at the spider. Dru couldn't see Daphne's face, only her stiff back. Some of the Hufflepuffs also took to sitting in uncomfortable silence.

Scores of witches and wizards have claimed that they only did You-Know-Who's bidding... under the influence of the Imperius Curse. But here's the rub: How do we sort out the liars? Another, another." Professor Moody searched the room. "Bones!"

The Hufflepuff girl immediately stood to her feet but had a blank stare as she glowered at the crazed man. "The Cruciatus Curse..."

"Aye. The Tortue Curse. Come!" And to Dru's horror, she watched as the spider squirmed in silent agony. _Auntie Bella..._

"Now, who can name the final curse...?" Professor Moody grunted, searching the room again for his final victim. Dru shivered in fear when his eye landed on her. He lifted his wand, dragging the withering spider onto her desk. "Ah, Malfoy... You of all students should know it. Come now."

Dru angrily glared at the professor, her fear giving way to a fit of burning anger in the pit of her stomach. "The Killing Curse." She gritted.

He nodded, before suddenly shouting, "_Avada Kedavra!_" The spider laid limp before her; many students gasped in fear when it lost its last twitch. "There is no escaping that curse."

* * *

Despite the horrendous first week of classes, the weeks passed by peacefully. September mugginess bled into October's chilly nights. And with that, the anticipation only grew for the Triwizard Tournament. According to the announcement Daphne read to her, the students of Beauxbatons and Drumstrang would arrive the afternoon the day before the Halloween Feast. It is at that feast where the commencement begins.

There were many rumors of Cedric Diggory being the most likely candidate for Hogwarts. Dru would've preferred it to be a Slytherin, or better yet herself, but she saw why so many hinted at the boy. As captain of the Hufflepuff quidditch team, Head Boy, and known by almost all of Hogwart, Cedric Diggory was its Golden Boy. Even Dru finds herself taken by his charm and handsomeness time from time. She preferred to see herself as more of a "distant observer" whereas Pansy could _drone on_ about his delicious looks and perfect teeth for hours—"Just _look_ at him, Dru! How can you _not_ wanna snatch his great arse and just smack his lips around for a bit?"

At that point, Daphne, her ever-gracious Savior, would shriek her name and threaten to sick Theo on her if she kept it up. Dru did not miss the cheeky smirk Pansy sent her way, probably thinking of how wonderful a threat that would be.

It made Dru think just where those two stood. Ever since the first year, Pansy has always forcefully flirted with Theo, the ever stoic and brash presence of their group. He would return it once in a blue moon but was always too annoyed to say anything. But since the third year, he's been a bit of charmer around the pretty brunette. Dru giggled to herself at the thought of Pansy wearing down the poor bloke with her spontaneous personality and horrible need for attention. If you were to ask Dru, they would be an odd pair, but a good match.

Dru turned to the sickly sweet Blaise and Daphne. They were whispering quietly amongst themselves, sharing warm smiles as they sat down for breakfast the morning of October 30th. Dru felt a sharp, bitter taste in her mouth. It tasted salty—

"Dru!" Theo suddenly said, his voice raspy from sleep. "You're lip is bleeding again."

Flushing red, Dru quickly put a napkin to her lip, ignoring the curious look from Blaise. It only made the blood in her mouth grow more bitter by the second.

"Nervous?" Pansy chirped, happily smacking on her toast with jam.

Dru nodded. "Mostly distracted, but, yes... Anxious."

"It seems everyone is a bit jittery for the schools to arrive later today." Daphne agreed, gracefully setting her tea down to look to Dru. "I, personally, am looking forward to meeting with the Beauxbaton students."

Theo rolled his eyes. "Course you are, Daph. S'gonna be a lot of yous walking round here, but a bit more _pleasing_ to the eyes if—Oof!"

"Language, you barbaric man!" Pansy hissed, easily readying her fist for another firm toss around.

"Merlin's beard, Pans!" Theo griped, clutching his arm.

"Serves you right, mate." Blaise cooly said, wrapping his arm around Daphne a bit tighter. Why did it feel like he was wrapping it around Dru's neck, taking away all the breath in her chest?

"I was only referring to their appreciation for good taste." Daphne pompously said.

Blaise snorted. "'Course you were, love."

Daphne's eyes flashed. "I would be wiser with your words, Blaise."

"Yes, Blaise!" Pansy sneered. "Do watch your tongue!"

"Oh shut it, Pansy."

Dru felt a giggle escape her lips as she sipped her tea with honey. It was sweet, overwhelming the bitterness stuck on her tongue. Her chest warmed as the liquid traveled down, eliciting a peacefulness within her. As she stared at her friends, snickering at one another, Dru theorized it wasn't just the tea that was sweet.

* * *

Dru didn't care for the Beauxbaton students as they gracefully stood behind their Headmistress, Madam Maxine, a woman as tall but more beautiful and elegant then the shabby ole half-giant was. A smirk fell on her lips as she saw how taken he was by her. The students were as boringly beautiful as Dru and Pansy had deduced they would be. However, the males were certainly pleased with the girls. Dru heard Pansy pinch Theo a great number of times as they scurried into the Great Hall, righting their pale blue cloaks and hats as they shivered in the cold.

She was certainly bored as she stood in her place in line, huffing as the afternoon air bit her cheeks.

"How much _longer_?" Pansy whined, pinching Dru's side to catch her attention.

Dru snickered. "Drumstrang will be arriving shortly."

"Right, right. Aye, didn't your father want to send you there instead of Hogwarts?"

"No," Dru snorted. "He said he would never send his daughter to a school meant for training young men. No, his choice would've been Beauxbatons, but Mother insisted it was too far away."

"Hush!" Blaise said. "Drumstrang is arriving!"

And to her utter surprise, a great ship rose from the inky depths of the Black Lake. It was a beautiful ship made of the darkest of walnut wood, almost black as it shone in the afternoon sun. It easily docked at the edge of the lake, bulky figures soon flooding the decks to depart from the sea vessel.

"Why are they so bulky?" Theo sneered. "Ate too much raw meat?"

Dru and Pansy giggled as Daphne glared at them both, saving her harshest for Theo. Right, Dru recalled. Theo hates them because they have Viktor Krum, the seeker for the Bulgarians. And Dru deduced that his walking figure is what drew out the excited gasps of the girls surrounding her. Even Dru's face flushed at the thought of possibly meeting one of her favorite seekers.

However, the severe man to his left, Headmaster Karkaroff, deterred a majority of the fawning with his presence.

After a brief greeting with Headmaster Dumbledore, he quickly took Viktor Krum inside, insisting he had a cold. She ignored the gasps of delight as the students hurried to follow him inside, mixing with some of the lagging Drumstrang students. Dru was too transfixed by the boy closely following Viktor Krum, his height and curly blonde hair too impossible to miss in a sea of brunettes and ravens.

Just as Dru was walking into the Lower West Floor, she looked to him again. He was blatantly staring at her, a slow smirk curling on his lips when he caught her eyes. Dru couldn't even bother to hold his look as Pansy dragged her towards the Dungeon.

* * *

"Dru!" Pansy hissed into her ear, practically thrumming in her seat at the sheer excitement of the Feast. She was a little too peppy with how dreadfully _boring_ sitting with the Drumstrang students. They were much too stoic and severe, barely offering words. Then again, Dru considered the language barrier between a majority of them. Only about a third spoke English, and only a small fraction of those could speak it fluently and without much struggle. "There's a boy staring at you. You know him?"

Dru looked to where Pansy nudged, flushing red when she caught the same blonde boy's eyes again. Scowling at him, she turned back to Pansy.

"I do not, but it would do him well to learn that staring is _rude_." Dru snootily retorted. Her callousness contradicted the surge of excitement within.

Theo snorted. "Seems Dru has a little, bitty _admirer_..."

Dru's eyes flashed at him. "Watch your mouth, Nott, lest you want spiders crawling out of it for the rest of the night."

"Dru!" Blaise hissed, but it was much too mirthful as he struggled not to laugh. "Headmaster Dumbledore is about to speak."

Dru saved a scowl for Mr. Bartemius Crouch Sr., who had taken a seat at the Professor's table along with Ludo Bagman. Just what was he doing here? She watched as Headmaster Dumbledore easily took to the podium, his booming voice calling for silence. Easily, the room listened. Everyone was waiting with bated breath for him to announce the start of the tournament. Even Dru found herself at the edge of her seat, grasping the worn wooden bench.

"The moment has come," said Dumbledore, smiling around at the sea of upturned faces. "The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation—" There was a smattering of polite applause. "—and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports. "

To Dru's delight, there was a much louder round of applause for Bagman than for Crouch, perhaps because of his fame as a Beater, or simply because he looked so much more likable. He acknowledged it with a jovial wave of his hand. Bartemius Crouch did not smile or wave when his name was announced. His toothbrush mustache and severe parting looked very odd next to Dumbledore's long white hair and beard. It left sneering in disgust when he looked towards the Slytherin table, somehow becoming even more disgusted and displeased as he quickly turned back to Headmaster Dumbledore. He continued:

"Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament," Dumbledore continued, "and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions' efforts."

At the mention of the word "champions," the attentiveness of the listening students seemed to sharpen. Perhaps Headmaster Dumbledore had noticed their sudden stillness, for he smiled as he said, "The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch. "

Filch, who had been lurking unnoticed in a far corner of the Hall, now approached Dumbledore carrying a great wooden chest encrusted with jewels. It looked extremely old and extremely heavy, drawing out a bored scowl. Dru figured he would drop the antique, seeing as how he hobbled, struggling to bring the casket before the podium. A murmur of excited interest rose from the watching students. Dru found Pansy, struggling to see, hopping onto her bench to catch a glimpse.

"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman," said Headmaster Dumbledore as Filch placed the chest carefully on the table before him, "and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways. . their magical prowess—their daring—their powers of deduction—and, of course, their ability to cope with danger. "

"As you know, three champions compete in the tournament," Dumbledore went on calmly, "one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire. "

Dumbledore now took out his wand and tapped three times upon the top of the casket. The lid creaked slowly open. Dumbledore reached inside it and pulled out a large, roughly hewn wooden cup. It would have been entirely unremarkable had it not been full to the brim with dancing blue-white flames.

Dumbledore closed the casket and placed the goblet carefully on top of it, where it would be clearly visible to everyone in the Hall.

"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet," said Dumbledore. "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete.

"To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation," said Headmaster Dumbledore, "I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line.

"Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all. "

* * *

"So, who do you think placed their name in?" Theo asked, his bloody sausage disturbingly on display as he pushed the question out of his full mouth. It left Dru and Daphne perturbed, earning a smack on the shoulder from Blaise.

"Close your trap and maybe I'll tell you who I saw drop a name in the Goblet!" Blaise snorted.

Theo rolled his eyes, leaning comfortably into his bench as he guzzled down his pumpkin juice.

"How your mother came to live this long with a pig as a son, I will never understand," Daphne said, easily sipping her morning tea as Pansy snickered.

"I thought you were on my side!" Theo whined to Pansy.

She shrugged. Her brown eyes were a devious shade this late morning."Sorry, but when it comes to Daph, it's best if you always assume she's right and you're wrong." Pansy sent a wink Blaise's way. "That's some good advice for ya, champ!"

Dru quietly chuckled to herself as Daphne preened under the compliment and Theo kicked Blaise under the table. She looked to the Zabini, suddenly taken by how marvelous his hair was this morning, a nice, inky black that was perfectly tousled every which way. Pansy's words broke her out of her stupor, however.

"So, Blaise. Spill it or I'll sick Dru on you!"

Blaise sighed. "Hmmm... Well, maybe I shouldn't?"

Dru rolled her eyes. "Blaise, I suggest you start talking or I'll have to reintroduce you to a wonderful jinx referred to as the bat-bogey hex."

"Alright! Alright," He suddenly relented, holding his hands up in surrender. Clearing his throat, he nodded to huddled Drumstrang students farther down the table. "All of Drumstrang placed their names into the Goblet. I haven't seen any Hogwart students place their names in, but I'm betting Cedric Diggory eventually will put his name in and will be our champion."

Dru nodded. "Seems as likely as how adored he is by everyone. Sad to see no worthy Slytherins try... If only they weren't _stupid_ and let us put our names in!"

Theo snickered. "Sure, Dru. You'd just threaten everyone by saying your daddy will hear about it!"

The whole group fell in bouts of laughter as Dru blushed and bristled under the teasing. "I say it _one_ time when I'm a child!"

Pansy clutched her side, wheezes easily coming out of her mouth as she struggled to say, "Cheer up, love! We tease with love."

Dru rolled her eyes as the group gave into another round of laughter. "Seeing as it is a Saturday, I believe I'm going to enjoy a nice walk and maybe play some Quidditch later. Anyone care to join?"

"No thanks, dear," Daphne said, squeezing Blaise's hand. "Blaise and I will be studying at the Library."

"Sure, studying each other's mouth most likely." Pansy jeered, sharing a laugh with Theo. Dru caught how his stare lingered at her. Curious. "Sorry, love! I'm heading back to bed!"

"I'll be in the Common Room, trying to scam some galleons out of gullible first years." Theo shrugged.

Everyone rolled their eyes at that comment. He had been trying to convince the first years that they need to offer tribute to the ghost of Salazar Slytherin lest they warrant some kind of jinx upon them. Apparently, Theo is the "keeper of offerings." Only a few have fell victim to his prank, but not without either Dru or Daphne hackling him to return the money.

"Bless those poor souls who fail to see the stupidity of your being," Blaise muttered, downing his coffee before snatching Daphne's hand. "See you later tonight for the drawing!"

And everyone disbanded at his cue, hurriedly going about their activities for the day, leaving Dru to her thoughts. Happily humming, she wrapped her scarf around her thick black wool coat, heading out of the Lower West Floors and towards the grounds. The sun was exceptionally bright today. It warmed her face, fighting off the brisk cold that hugged the grounds. She saw small groups of students milling through grassy areas and paths. A large flurry of girls seemed to follow Viktor Krum and his friends, who were being given a tour of the grounds by Cedric Diggory and some of his quidditch players. She snickered when Viktor's scarf was blown away from the breeze; suddenly, the girls gave chase to it, screaming and shouting spells to somehow retrieve the fabric.

Nothing else was particularly invigorating about her stroll around the castle. She snickered when she saw the band of giggling stalkers Viktor Krum accrued over the past day and morning. They followed him throughout his tour of the castle led by no other than Cedric Diggory. Dru happily observed their discomfort grow and grow as the girls showed no signs of stopping their following.

Dru caught the eyes of the curious boy with curly blonde hair again. He offered her a dazzlingly smile. It left Dru all too suspicious. Drawing out a sneer, she quickly made her way back to the castle. It left her with very few things to do besides going back to the common room. She found Theo and Pansy there, hackling first-years for the knuts again.

Dru felt no sympathy when one of the older years, the older sister of one of the boys, easily threw a bat-bogey jinx at Theo. It left Dru and Pansy gasping for air as they jeered at their friend.

The rest of the afternoon passed in peace, but Dru couldn't ignore how her stomach was sinking further and further as the Feast neared.

* * *

The Feast was much like the night before: filled with foreign dishes and loud arguments throughout the table. Many were placing bets on who would be drawn for each school. Obviously, the majority placed their bets that both Krum and Diggory's names would be pulled due to their popularity and "demonstrated valor" throughout the years. Not many knew of the Beauxbatons students as they kept to themselves. However, many claimed they were all veela because of their sheer beauty and charm. Pansy jabbed Theo's side with that last comment.

Headmaster Dumbledore quickly called for the end of the feast as he approached the Goblet of Fire. The students quickly fell into baiting breath as he cleared his throat.

"Sit down, please. And now the moment you've all been waiting for, the selection of the champions!"

Dru found her hand being squeezed tightly by Pansy. The light of the goblet, a brilliant blue, changed into a furious red as a small parchment was spit out of it. Headmaster Dumbledore easily snatched the paper, unfurling it. They shared a small smile before the headmaster's voice boomed throughout the hall.

"The Drumstrang champion is... Viktor Krum!"

The whole hall was filled with roars and cheers as the famous seeker proudly stepped forward. He nodded at the headmasters and judges before quickly joining the small room where the selected champions were to wait. Dru squeezed Pansy's hand tighter when the second paper was coughed out of the goblet.

"The champion from Beauxbatons... Fleur Delacour!"

Polite clapping fell amongst most of the students as they hardly recognized the name, but it quickly changed as one of the most beautiful girls stood. Gracefully, she gave a serene smile as she glided to the secluded room. The girls from the school cheered loudly as she left, joined by infatuated boys of both Hogwarts and Drumstrang alike.

"Only Hogwarts left!" Pansy happily cheered, letting go of Dru's hand to elbow Theo in the ribs. Dru caught a warm smile the grumpy boy sent to Pansy's way. Dru found herself frowning, but was quickly distracted when Dumbledore spoke again.

"Finally! The Hogwarts champion... Cedric Diggory!"

All Hogwarts students stood to cheer and clap as Cedric was pushed forward. He quickly made his way towards the room, his brilliant smile lighting up the whole room as he made his way. The whole hall was abuzz as bets made were fulfilled. Treats and galleons changed hands as Dumbledore cleared his throat again, calling the order into the room.

"Excellent! We now have our three champions! But in the end, only _one_ will go down in history. But only one will hoist this chalice of champions, this vessel of victory—the Triwizard Cup!"

Students and staff alike happily clapped. Many began to place bets on who would win the first task with even more speculating what it could possibly be. However, many quieted down due to the gasps of surprise and worry as the goblet became red once again. Dread mounted in the hall as Dumbledore quickly snatched the paper, reading its contents.

Shakily, he called, "Harry Potter?" Gasps and cries of anger filled the hall. "Harry Potter!"

She watched as Hermione Granger shoved him out of his seat, pushing him towards the front of the hall. Many of the Slytherins began to boo as he nervously walked. She even caught the disgusting glare from Weasel; even best friends can fall victim to jealousy it seems. Theo, Goyle, and Crabbe were the loudest. Daphne and Blaise held looks of disdain and anger as they glared at him. Pansy was still shocked by the news but quickly joined the boys in the shouts of protest. Dru only sat thoughtfully in her seat. She chewed her lip as some called him a cheater. They ceased when he entered the room, and Deputy Headmistress McGonagall called for the dismissal of students.

She joined the large mass of students making their ways towards their common rooms, gossiping and cursing about the news of Harry's addition to the tournament. They didn't know how he did it, but it seemed to matter not as he was a champion.

Dru, however, wanted to know. So, she hid in the corridor where the faculty and champions were to meet. She waited, hiding behind a pillar. Minutes passed, along with loud shouts of anger from the room, but she didn't wait too long. The door burst open. Viktor Krum was the first to exist, easily striding towards the Black Lake. He seemed neutral at best, neither annoyed or in favor of Harry's name being called out. Fleur Delacour, on the other hand, looked quite displeased. The scowl on her face didn't take away from her beauty. She couldn't see Cedric Diggory's face, but he had a stiff gait as he quickly made down the stairs towards the Kitchens.

Harry was the last to leave, the straggler of the group. Perfect.

She snatched his hand when he just passed her pillar, dragging him behind as she headed for the closet in the corridor. Opening it wildly, she quickly pushed him in before closing it behind them.

"_Lumos_!" She whispered, her wand emitting the beautiful white light. It illuminated the shock of Harry's face. If Dru wasn't so miffy, she would actually enjoy it.

"Bloody hell, Dru!" He hissed, anger taking root upon his face. "What do you think you're—"

"Talk." She barked, shoving the wand closer into his face, pressing it nearer to his eyes.

He shoved it away, blinking to right his already poor vision. Harry sighed heavily, knowing full too well the steely determination and authority that was Druella Malfoy. "I didn't put my name in it! Alright?! I swear that I didn't put my name in!"

Dru snorted, pulling her wand away. "Obviously, Harry! I'm not daft like you."

"Hey!"

"Please. You couldn't even think of a way to stop me from blackmailing you over the past years. What makes you think I would even _entertain_ the idea of you executing this clearly engineered plan?"

"What, what do you mean by... engineered?"

Dru huffed, her lack of answer from him igniting her annoyance. "Harry! I thought it would be bloody obvious by now."

"What is?"

"You certainly didn't place your name into the goblet, so that means someone else did! Now, who would do something like that? A close friend perhaps? Maybe even a professor? An enemy...?"

"Wait... You believe me?" He whispered.

Dru nodded slowly, barely containing her anger as Harry blindly connected the dots within his thick skull. "It's the only plausible explanation. Anyone could see that, Harry!"

Suddenly, he seized her into a brief hug, a dry chuckle escaping his lips. She was pressed into his chest, forcing her to note that he had somehow gotten _taller_ over the summer holiday; her nose reached the top of his shoulder. He let her go, enjoying the look of utter confusion and disgust on her face as she punched his shoulder.

"Keep your vulgar hands _off_ me, Potter!"

Harry would typically be scared of her anger, but he was too happy to care. "No one believed me, not even Dumbledore or Ron!"

She rolled her eyes. "Then they are certainly daft, aren't they?" Harry gave her a happy grin, goofy in its crooked ease. She didn't return it. Worriedly, she chewed her lip. "Harry... If you didn't orchestrate to put your name onto the slip of parchment, then who did?"

Harry couldn't answer her. He hadn't thought of it like that. "I, I don't know..."

She groaned, rubbing her fingers on the temples of her forehead as she began to pace. "Harry, there was a reason why the tournament was banned for over four hundred years! Champions have died from competing! The tasks are weary at best and a death sentence at worst! Someone is obviously trying to kill you!"

He frowned; fear and blind faith began to consume him. "Dumbledore wouldn't let that happen!"

"I'm sure he won't, Harry," She pathetically offered, not enjoying how quickly he was becoming distressed. It was too much like last year in the tunnel, an event she would _never_ want to repeat. "He would have probably assigned professors to watch over you from now until the completion of the tournament."

"What the bloody hell am I supposed to do, Dru?!" He suddenly sneered, fear giving way to anger. It was terrifying to see a typically meek and neutral boy take on such anger. His green eyes were acid; it burned for Dru to look at him.

She sighed, already regretting the words she was about to say. "You'll win, Harry. And I plan on making sure of it."

(But maybe it was worth it with how brightly he smiled.)

* * *

"How the bloody hell did he enter?!" Theo sneered, angrily glaring at Harry. He wasn't too much happier than the Slytherin boy, brooding at his seat as Weasel pointedly ignored him. He favored a chat with that stupid Scottish fanatic.

Dru shrugged, easily sipping her lemongrass and ginger tea with just a little bit of honey. "At this point, Theodore, it doesn't matter. Headmaster Dumbledore has decided to allow him to compete, so not much can be done."

He scowled at her as Pansy suddenly said, "Ugh! Fine then. Just have to cheer for Diggory."

Daphne let out an airy giggle, sounding like bells in the air. "Were you not already planning to do just that?"

"Yeah," she shrugged. "Now I have reason to!"

Blaise nodded, slouching into his seat as Daphne slowly scratched his back. Dru found herself not completely repulsed by the action, but that thought wasn't important at the moment. What she was prioritizing, however, was what the first task will be.

"Say," Dru slowly said. "What do you think the first task will be?"

"Merlin knows," Blaise answered, downing his coffee and eggs. "Most likely a deadly dance with some hideous beast or saving a fair maiden or perhaps even a duel to the death!"

"Blaise!"

"What?" He snarked at Daphne, immediately straightening up in his seat as he realized just _who_ he was talking with. "Sorry, love!"

Pansy snickered while Theo made a sound much too like the crack of a whip. Dru enjoyed how madly he blushed and glared at his friends.

"You might not be wrong, Blaise..." Dru mumbled, saying it much more to herself as she began to ponder all the possibilities Harry and Cedric Diggory would have to be competing against. Perhaps research in past events would do her well, as well as bothering Harry again about what exactly Mr. Ludo Bagman and that snotty Mr. Barty Crouch said.

* * *

"So, a test of courage then?" Dru mused to herself, not bothering to clue in Harry as she paced through the library.

She had found him hiding in a secluded corner of the library, particularly the section of herbology. Smirking to herself as he sat unaware of her presence, she had noisily dropped her book bag onto the old wooden table, shaking him out of his stupor with a girlish scream—"Dru! I did _not_ shriek." She wasted no time to interrogate him about what the first task could be, leaving the poor boy sweating in his seat. He regretted accepting her help now, as he hopelessly stared at her in confusion.

"So...?"

"I'm _thinking _Harry." She snarked. "Then again, it's probably an activity you and Weasel aren't too familiar."

"Hey!"

She snorted, sending him a raised brow as she gracefully plopped into her chair. "Please, Harry. Lest it wasn't for me and Hermione Granger, you wouldn't have made it through last year."

"What about me?"

Dru turned, surprised to see Hermione tugging her obnoxiously large bag and equally obnoxious hair in tow.

"Oh," Dru said. "Hullo, Hermione."

"Druella..." Hermione wearily said, taking a seat beside Harry.

Dru bristled to herself. "Don't call me that!"

Hermione ignored her in favor of looking to Harry. She offered a sympathetic look as she squeezed his arm. "He's still mad, Harry."

Harry rolled his eyes, slouching into his seat as he muttered to himself, "Well he can go and sulk in the corner then while I'm here with a death sentence."

Dru raised a brow at the duo. "Take it Weasel is just broiling in jealousy and rage right about now?"

"His name is _Ron_, Druella."

"And my name is _Dru_, Hermione."

Harry awkwardly coughed, drawing the attention of both girls—an unwise choice.

"Yes, _Harry_?" Hermione coldly asked, her brown freezing him in place.

"Nothing!"

Hermione turned back to Dru, giving her a thoughtful glance. "Why are you here?"

Dru rolled her eyes. "Well, someone has to save Harry again, seeing as how he is incapable of keeping himself _out_ of trouble during the school year."

"That's not his fault!" Hermione defended.

"Please, Hermione. His face might as well be stamped with 'I love being in danger!' with that scar on his face."

"Hey!"

"Well, am I _wrong_, Harry?"

"...Well, no..."

Dru smirked proudly, returning back to the book she had managed to find. It was a record of all Triwizard Tournaments haven taken place in the past thousand years. So far, the tasks had been gruesome and unpleasant at best. It left her worrying more and more as she continued to read. From duels to the death, retrieving priceless artifacts from dangerous creatures, and passing outrageous tests of courage and intelligence, Dru was positively sure Harry would be found dead come to the first task.

She even shared this sentiment with him and Hermione.

"Dru!"

"Hey!"

She rolled her eyes. "Honestly Harry, I don't believe you recognize that you have solely lived to this day because of the utterly ridiculous amount of luck you have. And also because Hermione here has most likely told you what to do in most situations."

Hermione preened. "She's not wrong. Recall first-year with that nasty devil's snare and potion riddle if you will."

Harry frowned, groaning to himself as he hid under his arms on the wooden table. Dru shared a quick snicker with the other girl but quickly stopped when she realized _who_ she was keeping company with: a snobby, know-it-all who wouldn't know how to be subtle if her life depended upon it.

With that in mind, she quickly stood to gather her things.

"Leaving, are you?" Hermione asked, too nosy for her own good.

Dru rolled her eyes, tutting her lips. "Yes, yes. Goodbye for now." She only made one step before quickly turning back to Harry, who was still whining into the table. "Oh, and Harry, try _not_ to cause too much trouble. Though, I don't see how you'd manage that with how you're drowning in your own tears of pity and 'woe-is-me.'"

Harry only groaned again in reply, drawing out a quick smirk from Dru; he only further solidified her astute observation.

She quickly looked around the library, observing who else was struggling. It was easy enough to find the sore bloke sticking out like a beggar at an estate gala: Viktor Krum and his charming friends. It was only three of them now compared to the rather large posse of goons and lumps that seemed to mindlessly follow him around. Curiously, one of them was that blonde who kept sneaking glances at her. Even more curious, Viktor Krum couldn't seem to take his eyes off of one Hermione Granger.

She ignored the blonde boy again as he caught her eyes, too fascinated by the developing drama unfolding at the castle: Viktor Krum and Hermione Granger, an odd pair as ever. She would just have to keep an eye on that developing... _whatever it was_. Just as much as she would keep an eye on Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory. Seeing as how the fate of Hogwart's dignity and valor rests in the hands of two hopelessly clueless but somewhat charming boys, she would have to keep an eye on them too.

It seemed that everyone needed Dru's help this year.

* * *

Yet she couldn't find more helpful information for the first task. "A test of courage" could only go so far in research. It left her irritated and exasperated as more and more tombs were useless and garbage to her. From what she had gathered from Harry with their occasional meeting in the library, Hermione also found nothing. At least Dru didn't feel as defeated knowing the great bookworm herself couldn't do much either.

However, she did take to finding Viktor Krum, with or without his close chumps, always sitting at a table just in view of one Hermione Granger. On some occasions, she would catch them sneaking glances at each other. How curious, Dru hummed to herself often, curious and curiouser...

That was as far as drama as Dru found herself concerned within the month of November. Daphne and Blaise were as chummy and cheery as ever, also sneaking quick kisses with each other when they thought no one was watching. It seemed they have failed to learn that _nothing_ runs past Dru's eyes without her knowing, including lovesick couples. The burning and bitter taste in her mouth lessened more and more as time went on between the friend group. She found herself not caring what they did together, but she always remained aware of them. It was an annoying habit that Dru wished that would knock off come holiday.

Until then, she would just have to continue to excel in her classes. Perhaps this year, with Hermione distracted with the ever-intriguing Viktor Krum, she wouldn't have to worry about securing first in class. Then again, every time she underestimated her opponent, she proves her wrong. Maybe it was time for Dru to learn that Hermione was as sharp as her, despite her background—yes, a very bittersweet pill for her to swallow.

She didn't have to focus too much on it, however, when a very, very nervous Harry pulled her aside one Sunday morning, the day after their latest Hogsmeade trip.

"Dragons." He breathed. "I'm facing bloody dragons."

Dru covered up the abrupt round of laughter from her mouth with her hand, but Harry easily caught it.

He glared at her. "Yes, laugh it up, why don't you? You'd be up there in the arena while I face certain death."

"Well, certainly Granger and I can keep it to just minimal maiming." Dru teased.

Harry rolled his eyes, walking on to the Library. Dru strolled in sync, easily catching on to what he was about to ask.

"'Mione and I are heading to the library if you want—"

"Yes, yes, Harry," Dru said. "I'll join you both for a spell before I must run off to meet with Pansy to help her with her homework."

How brilliantly he smiled couldn't even be described in words, Dru thought to herself. It was unbloody fair that _anyone_ could smile like that. It was rather annoying if you would ask her.

Harry and Dru spotted Cedric walking towards them, cheery and beautiful as ever. She caught Harry's thoughtful look before quickly snatching his wrist to stop him.

"Don't even _think_ about telling him!" She hissed.

"Why not?" Harry rebutted, pulling his hand free. "He's the only one who doesn't know."

"Use that to your advantage, you bloody idiot!"

Harry seemed to grow taller as he quickly stepped away from her. His certainty was astounding when he firmly told Dru, "No. It wouldn't be fair."

And with that, he left a very baffled and angry Dru standing, watching helplessly as Harry gave away his one and only advantage. She didn't spend too much time in her stupor. She had better things to do, like help Hermione do some research. If he wanted to be a goody-goody and be nice, fine. But she didn't care for practicalities or niceties. She was a winner, and winners don't win by playing chummy. Maybe Harry will learn that come to the first task. Dru hoped because, with that naivety of his, he wouldn't make it far if the Dark Lord's follower ever did regain power.

Dru hoped Father failed in that aspect. She really did.

* * *

As Dru waited impatiently in the stadium, the crowd of students and spectators roaring just as heartily as they did in the Quidditch World Cup, she hoped Harry's plan worked.

_He found her and Hermione later in the library, failing to find any useful spells against dragons. Harry didn't seem all too fazed by it, leaving both girls worried._

_"C'mon then!" Dru hissed, pinching his shoulder. "Spill!"_

_"Ouch!" Harry whined, holding his tender arm to himself. "Come off it will you!"_

_"Harry!" Hermione screeched._

_He bitterly groaned as he explained what Professor Moody said to him. Hermione pinched her nose as Dru barely contained her bout of snickers. He frowned at them, wrinkling his nose._

_"What is it now?"_

_Dru snorted. "Nothing, nothing, just funny that you seemed to forget that a dragon can still pluck you out of the bloody sky!"_

_"What?"_

_"Merlin's Beard! You're a hopeless case. A dead man!"_

_"Wait a minute..." Hermione hummed, her nose scrunching as she considered his plan. "This, this could work."_

_The Slytherin huffed. "Please. I would like to see him last longer than a minute in that arena."_

Dru truly hoped he would prove her wrong as he stepped into the arena. Of course, he was last to go and had chosen one of the most dangerous, if not _the_ most dangerous dragon, to face against. And to top it all, it was a _female_ dragon protecting her eggs. And he had to _steal_ one of those. Brilliant. Bloody brilliant.

"So this is the day Harry Potter dies," Dru muttered to herself and Pansy as they watched him summon his broom.

"Curious. Thought it would be a tad bit sunnier." Pansy mused. The humor was missed, however, as Harry took to the sky, the dragon quickly seizing the opportunity to attack him. Dru could barely stop a gasp from escaping her as it aimed a tunnel of fiercely bright and burning fire at Harry. However, it seemed to summon his broom was the right call. He easily dodges it. In fact, he could avoid most of its attacks with how slippery and nimble he was. Maybe he did have a chance—

He whizzed around the back end of the dragon, forgetting to dodge her spiked tail as his shoulder harshly grazed it. It drew out a cry of pain from him, eliciting a gasp from Dru as she covered her mouth. Pansy caught on to her worry.

"S'alright, love." She offered, squeezing her shoulder. "Potter doesn't seem so stupid, so he might have a chance."

Dru snorted, too worried to answer Pansy. Chewing her lip, she watched as he continued on with his diversion tactics. A few minutes passed with failed attempts, but finally, after almost seven minutes of him almost dying, he succeeded. He quickly snatched up the golden egg, holding it up happily in the air as a blaring horn rang. Dru felt herself releasing a breath of relief, happily returning Pansy's brief hug as Ludo Bagman announced Harry had completed the task in the quickest amount of time.

She found herself whirled away by Pansy, dragging her back to the castle to celebrate Hogwart's first and third place; she didn't get a chance to speak with Harry afterward, but she supposes he too was being whirled away for his own victory party in his common room. She would debrief with him later. For now, she would prefer to watch Pansy's reenactments of all the performances today in her splendidly overdramatic and histrionic fashion.

* * *

Dru didn't find herself thinking too much of Harry or the Tournament as December and the upcoming holiday came upon Hogwarts. Exams and final essays called for more attention than the Second Task and the impending Yule Ball. While everyone was fretting over who to ask and who has been asked and by whom, Dru found herself in her favorite corner of the library, finishing up her assignments and preparing for that horrible antidote final in Potions. Even with her favor with Professor Snape, no one was spared from this particularly disheartening exam.

But it seemed her friends couldn't care much for their academics seeing as how their friend had no date.

"Dru!" Pansy whined, draping herself over her friend as they sat huddled up at the old wooden desk. The library was particularly dimmer this afternoon, leaving a lovely orange hue over Pansy's petulant face. "What do you mean you have no date to the ball?"

Dru rolled her eyes, easily skimming through her Transfiguration textbook. "Simple as that, my dear friend."

Daphne tutted her lips, writing another line to her essay before fully gazing at her friend. "Well, has no one asked you?"

"Oh, no, no," Dru breezily answered, writing down a note about immaterial transfiguration with a slight flourish of her quill. "I have been approached already by a few boys."

"Who?" Pansy pushed, happily flittering her eyes at Dru while she begged.

Dru giggled. "Well, let's see. Obviously Crabbe and Goyle, seeing as how their fathers want to be put in the good graces of Father again after their mistake with the hippogriffs last year. Then there was Anthony Goldstein. I was about to accept, but then he continued to prattle on about how good of a date we would have, always interrupting me. Quite easy to say no to that arrogant of a bloke. Then there was Wayne Hopkins. I would have said yes but the poor boy _fainted_ when I greeted him..." Dru saw the giggling hysterics of her two friends, drawing a pouted lip as she frowned at them. "And what, exactly, is so _funny_?"

"Dear," Daphne slowly said, still trying to maintain her proper posture. It certainly did her no good, however, as small bouts of laughter escaped every now and then. "I'm afraid there will certainly be _no_ boys left for you to be asked if you continue to say no!"

The Malfoy rolled her eye, crossing her arms stubbornly. "Please, Daphne! I will not lower my standards simply to have a _date_! If I go alone, then I shall."

Pansy frowned. "But Dru, we have dates already. What will you be doing when we are dancing?"

"Dates?"

Daphne nodded. "Yes, I will be going with Blaise and Theodore had asked Pansy earlier today after breakfast."

"That's why we're asking, love!" Pansy quickly said before Dru could react. "We don't want you to be lonely—"

"I don't see how I need a date to be quite frank." Dru bitterly said. "Why can't I go on my own? Why must a stupid boy need to hold my hand and step all over my toes while we dance? Why can't I enjoy the evening with my friends without having to fret over some idiotic bloke trying to see how far he can go with me that night?"

Pansy sighed, squeezing her hand. "No, you don't have to, love. We just want you to have a fun time is all."

"Yes, of course, Dru." Daphne agreed, sending her ever-warming smile. "We just want you to enjoy the ball."

Dru nodded, her lips quirking gratefully. "Good. Now all I have to do is stop Mother hounding me about my date and what I shall be wearing to the ball."

The girls snickered together as they carried on with their academia. However, their points stayed with Dru. As the day wore on, she worried more and more about it she really did _need_ a date for the ball. Yes, Mother will be quite ecstatic and call for a specially ordered gown for her to wear. Yes, her friends and she will be dancing together, enjoying their time with their dates. It seemed like quite a good idea.

But it still left Dru wrinkling her nose in disgust. No matter who she thought of as potential dates, it left her broiling in annoyance. It left her quite on edge, so much so that she almost bumped into Harry Potter in the corridor just outside of the Great Hall; she had been on her way back to the common rooms after enjoying a late supper.

"Oh, sorry, Harry." Dru quickly said, pushing her way past him before noticing his tempering annoyance and frustration. She was so tempted to leave him be and to carry on with the rest of her evening, but her curiosity always seemed to win out. "You seem to be in quite a dreary mood."

Harry bristled at her remark. "I'm not in the mood for another quarrel today, Dru."

She snorted. "Please, Harry. You're too dull for you to fully appreciate the craftiness and cleverness of my sarcastic retorts. I am simply pointing out the obvious dullness of your mood. The correct response would be to explain _why_ you're so sour today, yes?"

He wrinkled his nose before sighing heavily. "Cho Chang said no to going to the ball with me..."

"Oh, yes, I've heard she is going with Cedric Diggory." Dru saw how he quickly scowled at the fellow champion's name, drawing a breathy chuckle from her. "Come now, Harry. Don't let her refusal bother you too much. I mean, who is see to say no to the ever-charming Cedric Diggory?"

Harry glared at her before angrily stomping down the corridor that led to the Gryffindor staircase. Dru winced when she realized just how snotty that had actually been. Typically, she would shrug off the guilt and continue on with her day, but this was Harry Potter. And if Father taught her anything about maintaining friendships with people of power, it was to quickly appeal to their ego. Shouldn't be too hard with Harry the Boy Wonder.

"Wait, Harry!" She hurriedly called, snatching her nimble fingers around his wrist. Ignoring his growl, she hastily pressed on. "That was quite insensitive of me to say. For that, I apologize."

Harry snorted, leaning back against the corridor wall as he chuckled at Dru. "Never thought I would see the day of Druella Malfoy _apologizing_."

She smirked when he let out a yelp after she smacked his injured shoulder. "And you never will if you continue to let this inflate your already impossibly large ego. As I was saying... Cho Chang had already been speaking to Cedric for quite some time, Harry. He had asked her as soon as he learned about the ball which was weeks ago. You waited too long, but that's quite alright. I'm sure you've had dozens of girls asking you to be their date."

He scowled, kicking his feet as he looked down. "But I wanted to ask _her_."

Dru rolled her eyes in disgust. "Oh, please! The whining toddler act will surely get you nowhere with finding a date. From what I've heard, the champions are _required_ to have a date as they open up the ball."

"Don't remind me, Dru!" Harry whined, leaning his head back against the stone wall. "Now there are no girls left and I'll look like a complete _fool_ showing up with no date."

Dru bristled at him, grey eyes flashing. "There is no shame in attending the ball alone, Harry. I will be after all."

"You mean you said no to Goldstein?"

"Yes, and to Crabbe and Goyle and Wayne Hopkins. You see Harry, I don't see the need of having a date, because I'm much too splendid on my own to require another to tell me obvious things like how beautiful I looked and how wonderful of a date I am. Surely your inflated ego would tell you the same as it does every day when you're not in the spotlight."

Harry snorted at her. "Please, Dru. How anyone could have any sort of confidence with the vastness of your own cockiness is astounding."

Dru chuckled before squeezing his shoulder. "Cheer up, Harry. I'm sure you'll find a date. Onto more important matters though, what exactly was the clue within the Golden Egg?"

Harry bitterly laughed, sinking onto the cold floor with a dramatic sigh. Dru gracefully joined him, crossing her legs underneath her as she looked to him expectantly. "My bloody ears are still ringing from listening to it!"

"I beg your pardon?"

"There was nothing inside of it, Dru! It was the most painful and nauseating screeching I've ever heard. Bloody Neville almost fainted from it when we first heard it in the common room at the party after the task."

Dru nodded, thoughtfully humming to herself. "Interesting. It seems you first need to decipher how to access the clue before you are allowed to use it to your advantage. Quite clever of them actually."

"More like sadistic, don't you think?"

"I'm sure Hermione and I will find something after the exams and the ball. Until then, please refrain from destroying anyone's else eardrums."

Harry chuckled. "Trust me, I wasn't planning on it anytime soon."

He stood to stand, offering a hand for Dru. She readily accepted, pushing off the dirt from her skirt and cloak. When she looked to him again, he staring quite blatantly and weirdly at her.

She rolled her eyes. "What? Do I have something in my hair?"

"You're a girl!" He suddenly exclaimed, pointing at her.

"Yes," Dru drawled. "I'm quite glad you've finally come to that assessment after almost four years of going to the same bloody boarding school, Harry."

"And you have no date!"

"Harry! Are you having some kind of major depressive episode, or is it just past your bedtime and your brain is malfunctioning? Because from what I can see, you are asking for a _death wish_!"

He shook his head, grinning happily at her like a madman. "You can go to the ball with me! You can be my date!"

Dru felt her heart drop at his statement. She was sure she had a shocked look plastered on her face, but she quickly remedied it when she glared furiously at him. "I certainly could, Harry Potter, but do you really bloody expect a proper lady to accept that kind of proposal?! Honestly! Have some class! Some sense of decency! Where are my flowers, hmm?! Did you honestly expect me to say yes to _you_ when you make it seem like I am easy and convenient for you?! Where is the planning, the effort? I am a Malfoy and I deserve a proper asking of the ball, Harry Potter!"

Harry balked, suddenly losing all of his nerves as she raged on about how careless and crude his asking had been. Sheepishly, he only said this: "Um, no?"

She sneered at him, her steely eyes flashing a terrible shade of murder. "Well, why should I even say yes to you then?!" She emphasized her point with a long jab of her sharp nails into his chest, pushing him back. "Hmm?!"

He blinked, sweating as he wondered _why_ he had even bothered at all with asking. Right, because he needed a date or else McGonagall was going to be his partner for the opening dance and he would just _die_ of humiliation if that ever happened to him. "Because I am a champion and it would be an honor to come as my date?"

"Try again, Harry Potter!" She seethed. _The wrong answer_, he noted bleakly to himself.

"Because we would have a good time and can go as friends?"

That left Dru thoughtfully humming to herself as she considered his proposal. Yes, she would have a date so that would appease her mother and Pansy and Daphne. She wouldn't have to wait by herself as they go and dance with their dates. Also, as they would be going as friends, there would be none of the pressure and awkwardness Dru was expecting. Yes! It was brilliant. Why she hadn't thought of it before, she would never understand. But she wouldn't let Harry ever know that he actually had a good idea for once.

So, she decided to be coy as her mother always said. "Hmm, a mediocre proposal at best, Harry. What else am I to expect with going with you to the ball?"

Harry froze. He had never thought _that_ far ahead. "Um, uh, gah... Um, I would tell you how beautiful you looked!" Flattery! That was something he always heard from Lavendar in the common room whenever she was crying about another date gone wrong and Parvati soothed her by declaring all boys were bloody stupid and evil.

She smirked, enjoying a bit too much with how he was trembling under pressure. "Hmm, yes. I suppose that would be quite nice. What else, Harry?"

Finally, his Gryffindor nerve came back to him when he realized she was just playing with him, teasing him to see how far she could go with this bit. He glared at her, stomping away as he quite did earlier. "Nevermind, Dru! I'll find someone else to go with—"

"Oh, fine!" She quickly said, shivering at the small tinge of desperation in her voice as she snatched his wrist again. "I'll go to the ball with you, Harry Potter."

He snorted, sending her a lazy warm smile as he squeezed her hand in victory. "Fantastic. I'll see you at eight o'clock outside of the Great Hall?"

She preened, enjoying the victory of her toying with Harry. "Yes, that will do, I suppose. Goodnight, Harry."

He let her hand go, offering a sheepish grin as he realized that she had saved him from a night of misery and humiliation. "Goodnight, Dru."

As he walked away, Harry suddenly realized just _who_ he was going to the ball with—Druella Malfoy. _Druella Malfoy:_ the girl who was as ruthless as she was smart and sarcastic. The girl who would easily rip you to shred if she even smelled a bit of fear or adversary towards her. The girl that everyone wholeheartedly agreed would be the evil tyrannical ruler had she decided to follow that sort of route.

Suddenly, Harry found himself rather queasy and nervous, dreading the ball all the more than he had before.

Dru, on the other hand, was quite proud of her manipulation of that exchange. She now had the best of both worlds: a tolerable date and a friend to chat with when her friends left her for their boring and frivolous romantic dates. She should conduct some research about the potential before the ball. If they would be spending a whole evening together, she might as well make it productive.

* * *

The girls did not take as well to the idea of her having a date to the ball.

"What do you mean _Harry bloody Potter_ asked you to the ball?!" Daphne shrieked, her face flushing a disturbing shade of red. "That, that _hooligan_?"

Pansy snickered, elbowing Dru teasingly. "I think you broke Daphne, love. And I always thought I'd be the one to do it."

Dru ignored her, crossing her arms as she stared coldly at Daphne. "Yes, Daphne. And what is so wrong with going to the ball with this _hooligan_? Is he or is he not a champion?"

Daphne sighed. "You know how much the boys despise him, Dru. We were going to go together, as a group!"

"I don't see how I need to appease to everyone's wants, Daphne. If I did, then I would still be at Malfoy Manor, or worse! I would have never gone here!"

Pansy scrunched her nose as she carefully chose her next words. "Dru, we're so happy that you stand up for yourself. We love that about you, we truly do. But right now, how do you think it would look if you, the daughter of Lord Voldemort's most _faithful_ servant, was the date of The Boy Who Lived?"

Dru blinked. Then blinked again. "Oh." She eloquently answered.

Daphne fretfully combed through her hair, pacing through their dormitory. "Exactly! I, I know this has been a subject we somehow decided to avoid without much discussion, but how do you think Theodore or Blaise will take to this? Worse, Dru! The Slytherin boys will be absolutely _ruthless_ with the teasing and sneering and the, and the—"

"Hexing and jinxing and the bullying," Dru finished, her voice dropping to a soft whisper. She sat on the edge of her bed, thoughtfully chewing her lip as Pansy sat beside her, hugging her to her side. Dru sighed into her, squeezing her back tight before slowly letting go. "I know, Daphne."

Daphne bristled. "Then why on bloody earth did you say _yes_ to him! And since when have you fancied the stupid boy?"

Dru rolled her eyes. "I certainly _do not_ like him, Daphne. We're going as friends. And that's all. Nothing else."

"Why didn't you ask that Drumstrang boy that always stares at you?" Pansy suggested. "I'm sure he would've said yes."

Dru fell backward, collapsing on her soft blanket. "I don't want this ball to be my first date."

"What do you mean, dear?" Daphne pressed, watching the silver-haired girl carefully.

"I'm not interested in the dating and the relationships and this whole stupid concept of 'falling in love.'" Dru bitterly spat. "I, I already know that Father will marry me off to some pureblood loyalist that will take on the Malfoy name. I've always known that. So why do I bother with this stupid nonsense? Mother and Father were an arranged marriage, and they seem to care for each other. I don't want to play these childish dating games, especially at Hogwarts. So, so if I went with Harry... It would only be as friends. There would be no pressure, no push to try and have this romantic evening under the lights with the dancing and the small talk. I think it's quite rubbish at best and foolish at worst." She looked at Daphne. "Sorry, love."

Daphne slowly nodded, sitting beside her head. She softly combed her fingers through her friend's hair. Silently, her heart was breaking at how easily Dru had understood the bleak reality of her situation. Daphne saw herself as lucky, seeing as how Blaise was a pureblood her family would approve of her. Even Pansy, if she actually decided to stop playing games with Theodore and confessed her feelings, would have an acceptable match. But it didn't matter what Dru wanted, Daphne realized. She would be in a loveless marriage no matter what. And that, _that_ broke Daphne's heart.

She didn't weep though. No, she only sighed in defeat. "I understand, Dru."

Pansy nodded. "We'll jinx anyone that gives you any funny looks, Dru! I'll make sure to keep Theo on a tight leash, and I'm sure Daph will do the same with Blaise."

Daphne reluctantly nodded, still not enjoying _who_ Dru's date was, but at least she understood why. "Of course, loves."

Dru sighed, pleased with their promises. "Thank you."

But it still didn't qualm The Nothingness in Dru. This time, it took residence her in her chest, right where her heart rests. Right where she was supposed to feel this thing called "love."

_I will never find love, will I_?

The Nothingness grew heavier.

* * *

Dru found herself quite nervous as the clock struck seven o'clock. She was never one for nerves or worry. Before her Quidditch matches, she was more excited and itching to hop on her broom and take to the air. She never doubted herself; she was a Malfoy and she was a force to be reckoned with. Dru wasn't blind to how some of the younger students, and even the older students and faculty, watched her wary eyes. They feared her.

So why was she so nervous about the bloody Yule Ball?

"Oh, cheer up, love!" Pansy squeezed Dru's hand before twirling away to her desk, letting Daphne finish her last touches of her makeup with her hand before setting it down.

Daphne happily clapped her hands, cooing at the girl. "Oh, Pansy! Knowing you'll probably never wear make-up until your wedding night, I will forever sear this into my memory!"

"Don't get so sentimental, Daph," Pansy hissed, pinching her palm before turning back to Dru. "What has you so riled up anyways? Thought you and Potter were just going as _friends_... Unless you have forgotten to share yet _another_ important piece of your life again?"

Dru snorted, turning to face the mirror on her desk. "Very funny, Pansy." She admired her friend's beautiful plaited bun and face, marveling over the fact that she was so effortlessly beautiful with her charm and teasing nature. Theo truly didn't stand a chance this evening. The same for Blaise, she thoughtfully hummed to herself as she lifted her wand to begin crafting her hairstyle for the night. She was thinking a less intricate style compared to Daphne's voluminous curls with glowing flowers shining throughout.

"Answer the question, Dru," Daphne said.

"Just..." Dru huffed, twirling the wand to weave the top half of her hair into a small bun, resting at the upper back of the head. "I dunno..."

Daphne nodded. "It's ok to be nervous, dear. I'm sure everyone is."

"But I'm _never_ nervous!"

Pansy chuckled. "My, my, Daph! Dru is acting like a normal witch for once."

Dru rolled her eyes, sticking her tongue at her before finishing her hair with a deep emerald green ribbon to tie the hair in place. "You're simply hilarious, Pans."

She preened at the sarcastic compliment. "Thanks. I make sure to make Theo tell me that all the time."

Daphne huffed. "When will you stop toying with the boy's feeling and just let him ask you out to Hogsmeade already! Blaise says that you leave the poor boy speechless and sweating every time you go and flirt with him!"

Pansy shrugged. "I'm simply having much too fun with him, Daph. I'm positively excited to see what he'll do once Valentine's day comes!"

"And you say I'm the master manipulator," Dru muttered, stepping into her heels before turning to the girls. "I believe it's time we take our leave, girls."

As they descended down the staircase, she watched as the boys dropped their mouths most unhandsomely. It drew out giggles from the three. Dru watched as Daphne praised his wonderfully-crafted ensemble while Theo stumbled in finding words to compliment Pansy. The Parkison girl was having too much fun teasing him. Dru found herself smiling fondly at her friends, but it didn't help the sudden bite of unpleasantness surging through her. It started in her stomach, leaving her wincing as she looked away. The discomfort and bitterness were as brief as it had come, but it left her slightly worried. What was that all about?

She silently strolled behind the couples, choosing to keep to her thoughts as she neared the corridor near the Great Hall. She was supposed to meet Harry there while the rest of the student body was to greet the champions and their dates as they entered. Dru almost didn't notice the nervous girl mumbling to herself just around the corner before the staircase leading to where the champions waited. Pausing, she stared at the girl. With a beautiful subtle pink dress, its ruffles fluttering down her sides to accentuate her waist, and her tamed and beautifully styled curls, Druella almost didn't recognize Hermione Granger.

"Granger?"

The girl worriedly turned to her, flushing as she looked away. "Oh, hello, Druella—um, Dru. Harry, uh, he told me you agreed to be his date, much to Ron's delight."

She snorted, stepping closer to peer more closely at the girl. "Why are you hiding, Hermione?"

The Gryffindor winced at her bluntness. "Well, um... I'm just nervous."

"Certainly so, seeing as how everyone's eyes will be on you tonight." Hermione's eyes bulged in fear. Dru continued, "You look absolutely stunning, Granger. Many will not recognize you. I barely did."

She nodded, pushing herself off the wall as she neared Dru. "Re—Really? Um, none of the girls was much help to me with getting ready. They, they left before I was done, so I thought I had done some things wrong, like my hair, and my _dress_ and—"

"Please stop talking." Dru cooly hissed. She offered her elbow, turning impatiently towards the staircase. "You need confidence tonight, and this bumbling fool will certainly not do it. Come now and walk with your back straight. I believe we are now fashionably late, so if you will please...?" Hermione sheepishly nodded. Taking her elbow, she sighed breathlessly. Rolling her shoulder back, Dru admired the transformation that took place. It was acceptable for now. "I'm sure Viktor Krum will be rendered speechless."

"How did you—?!"

"I'm a lady of keen observation, Granger. I am Harry's date. Cho Chang has Cedric Diggory, and Fleur Delacour would need a male date. You were standing here instead of hiding inside of the Great Hall. Not hard to deduce."

Hermione Granger couldn't huff a response back as they turned into the staircase. Dru reveled in the attention the champions easily gave as she escorted Hermione to her date. Her smugness must have been contagious as the girl beside walked more determinedly and cooly. Dru was almost impressed when she greeted Viktor Krum with a coy look. She was even more impressed when Harry stared at his friend, unabashedly gaping.

"I would close your mouth before flies wander in, Harry." Dru drawled, smirking when Harry turned his attention back to her. Again, he stared at her, eyes slowly blinking.

"Wow, um, uh, you look beautiful, Dru. And, and is that _Hermione_?!"

Dru rolled her eyes, quickly snatching his elbow as the doors to the Great Hall opened. "Yes, Harry. Do talk about other girls and how beautiful they look in front of your date."

Before he could even offer a response to explain himself, the doors opened to the Great Hall. Pulling Harry closer to her, she stared coolly at the awaiting students to receive them.

They were the last pair to walk into the grand room, giving her the perfect chance to observe the crowd. Dru wasn't oblivious to the obvious gawking and glaring towards Hermione Granger. A great deal of the female population was ruthless with their sneers, while many of the males were absolutely _shocked_ to discover that it was _Hermione Granger_ who was Viktor Krum's mystery date. She noticed a few pleasantly pleased, like Weaselette and the disastrous Longbottom.

She continued her observations, noting many lovesick boys drooled over Fleur Delacour as did plenty of girls for Cedric Diggory. Dru caught Harry's longing glances towards the Ravenclaw seeker, leaving her rolling her eyes as she finally glanced around to admire the decorations of the Yule Ball. It was like a beautiful winter's eve. Charmed snow fell from the ceiling, leaving the ancient room to look like a winter wonderland. Dru always did enjoy the look of freshly fallen snow on Malfoy Manor. And it seemed to be reflected in the Yule Ball's theme.

She was certainly aware of the gasps and glares as she and Harry walked behind the champions. Dru heard all the whispering and spiteful glances sent her way courtesy of Gryffindors and Slytherins alike. Everyone thought there was this rivalry between her and the Boy Wonder, but they seemed unaware of their friendship. She snorted to herself; what a fun bit of drama to cause, especially with her bold emerald green dress that her Mother funnily sent.

When she had sent word to Mother that she would be attending the Yule Ball with a nameless date, she was not ecstatic. Narcissa Malfoy was never one for being kept out of privy information, especially about her daughter. Dru eventually gave in and relented in saying that he was a champion. Dru doubted her Mother's deductive skills, finding out it was Harry Potter. Thankfully, Dru convinced her, with very choice words and promises to let her take her shopping and wear whatever she wants for a week, to keep this from Father. Cheekily, she sent over an emerald dress. No doubt to enforce the idea that Dru is a Slytherin and Malfoy first and always.

Harry took her to the center of the room, where the chairs and tabled circled around it, forming the dance floor. Nervously, he placed his hand on her hip, gently grabbing her other hand as they prepared for the music to start. Dru snarled when she caught him looking at Cho Chang _again_.

"Ow!" Harry quietly hissed. "Why did you pinch me?"

"Last time I remembered, _I _was your date, Potter. Eyes on me lest you wish to fall and make a fool of yourself, and more importantly _me_!"

He sighed, his regret of asking Dru to be his date growing by the second as the music finally began.

Harry was never one for grace at parties, seeing as how _this_ was his first party _ever_. He hadn't even been to birthday party growing up, besides the gluttonous affair for his trollish cousin. And as he glided Dru across the dance floor, twirling her a bit too early or late, he winced as he knew how blatantly obvious it was to Dru. He could _feel_ her frustration and annoyance with him grow with every step. He truly thought she would burst when he accidentally stepped on her toe, caught up once again staring at his lovely and sweet and simply marvelous Cho Chang.

Instead, Dru terrified him even more with how deathly clam she became.

"Keep your chin up, straighten your back, whilst facing me always. I have done these dances hundreds of times now, so if you would be so kind, let _me_ take the lead, yes?"

Harry didn't even bother arguing with her, thankfully relieved as she began to lead them through it. This weight of nervousness and fear lifted when he realized how less choppy and awkward their spins and changing of hand places were now. It was smoother, more natural. It left Harry to relax a bit when he noticed that others began to join, taking the spotlight off of him. If he really tried to be optimistic, he could even make the scant argument that the dance was _pleasant_.

Dru cleared her throat, catching his attention again. And this time, he really looked at Dru. He realized that she truly _did_ look quite beautiful tonight. Maybe a bit more severe and haunting than how his sweet and innocent Cho Change looked in her silver dress, but still beautiful. Then, he realized just what color her dress was: a bold emerald green. She bloody wore Slytherin colors. Harry was mildly baffled at first, but then later reconsidered just _who_ he was dancing with, quite nicely now. Yes, seems just about right.

"If you think any harder, Harry, I believe your head will spontaneously combust all over my new gown." Dru teased, guiding Harry to spin her on time once again. Harry caught himself entranced by how her slim emerald dress twirled with her.

He snorted, somewhat awkwardly receiving her again as they glided across the floor. "You look beautiful tonight, Dru." And he truly meant it. He never really saw her with make-up or intricate hairstyles like he'd seen with other girls. She was always one for simple braids close to her scalp to keep her hair away or simply letting it down with some clips to keep her hair back. But now, with how small curled pieces slipped out of her small bun, he noticed how soft it looked. Druella Malfoy was anything but soft and gentle, so the sight before seemed too unlikely to be real.

Dru preened under his compliment, flashing him a smirk. "I see you're finally keeping to your contract, Harry, instead of drooling after Cho Chang."

He glared at her, slightly pinching her waist. "I, I wasn't _drooling_!"

"Please, Harry. It was like a puppy seeing its favorite chew toy." She thoroughly enjoyed how he blushed in embarrassment, turning again to look at his obvious crush. Dru watched him stare longingly at her, his face slowly turning into one of sadness and disappointment when she laughed at something Cedric whispered into her ear. Biting her lip, Dru slowly curled her fingers under his chin, bringing his attention back to her again. He was mildly surprised, his green eyes bright as he stared at her. "Harry... It's better for you to let this go. Nothing good will come out of this pining."

He snorted at her, recoiling from her touch as if her fingers burned him. "You don't know that, Dru. She could actually be unhappy with him! He's stupid and an oaf and maybe she'll—"

"Harry!" She hissed. "You have no right nor authority to interfere with their relationship. Let her be happy." He looked at her a moment longer, his anger boiling behind his face. Suddenly, he sighed deeply, his shoulders sagging as she looked back to Cho Chang. Dru winced at how utterly heartbroken he looked. It was rather pathetic if she would be honest, but she knew that comment would not help in the way she thought it would. Instead, she poked his side. When he looked back at her, eyes saddened, she offered one of her real smiles. "You'll be alright, Harry. I'm sure of it."

He nodded, a little too terrified of how much teeth she was flashing him. Honestly, it was she actually _sharpened_ her canines. "Since when did you become a master of love?"

She tensed in his grip, letting him take the lead as she thought of it. It really didn't make any sense to her, seeing as how she knew nothing of love. She knew of friendship and the happiness that comes from it. She thinks she knows what a parent's love is for their child with how Father and Mother always think of her protecting first. But romantic love? The love that is supposed to be one of the purest things of being a witch She was completely unaware of what it looks or feels like. Yet here she is, giving Harry advice about his hopeless crush about the Ravenclaw seeker.

"I'm a master of many arts, Harry Potter." She decided to say, enjoying how her teasing voice masked the slight pauses of her words. She didn't notice how Harry stared strangely at her, noticing her unsureness. "I believe it's about time you notice that."

The music finally stopped, leaving the pair to bow to the students and professors. They cheered loudly, happy to finally start the feast. Harry led Dru to their seats at the back of the room, where the champions and their dates were to sit with the judges. Happily, Dru noticed that Mr. Crouch was absent, replaced, to her utter disproval and disgust, with Percival Weasley. How charming. Thankfully, Harry led to sit besides Viktor Krum and Hermione Granger.

Hermione cheerily greeted Dru. "Oh! You danced wonderfully." She turned to Harry. "You almost tripped twice in the beginning! Weren't you paying attention to the dance lessons?"

Dru snickered as Harry blushed. She leaned in closer to Hermione, whispering in her eye, "He was too busy drooling over Cho Chang to keep an eye on his feet."

"Dru!" Harry hissed. "Stop telling people that!"

She and Hermione snickered before the Gryffindor girl introduced her to her favorite Seeker.

"Viktor, this is Druella Malfoy. Druella—I mean Dru, this is Viktor Krum."

Dru silently nodded, too ecstatic to offer a greeting. Viktor offered a curt nod, snatching her hand for a brief kiss to her knuckles before turning back to Hermione, speaking to her about Drumstrang again.

"Drooling over Krum?" Harry chortled, immensely enjoying how flushed Dru was.

She sneered at him. "I'm just happy to meet one of my favorite Quidditch players, _Harry_. Unlike you, I have class and dignity."

And the rest of the meal was much like that: teasing between her and Harry, quick words with a very quiet and broody Viktor Krum, and an actually pleasant conversation with Hermione Granger. Soon, however, she would regret her words of "pleasant" with how _insistent_ she became with Dru.

"Please, Dru!" She whined, already standing with Viktor as The Weird Sisters began playing music. Students were already running to the dance floor, happy that the stuffy and boring ballroom music switched in favor of more popular and danceable music. Dru absolutely despised it. "Please, Harry!"

Dru looked to Harry, wincing as Harry guiltily feel into Hermione's whines. She glared ruthlessly at him when he finally yielded to the girl.

As Harry reluctantly dragged her onto the floor, he winced when Dru punched his shoulder. "What did you want me to do, Dru? She's already bloody peeved about Ron ignoring her tonight and with how he asked to the dance."

Dru sighed. "You can still say no!"

"Were you going to?"

"Well... eventually and politely... _yes_."

Harry snorted, awkwardly standing with her as their schoolmates and guest excitedly jumped around to the edgy beat. "Please. You would've said yes too!"

She scoffed. "No one _ever_ forces me to do something I don't like."

They glanced around, not knowing what _exactly_ to do.

"C'mon, Dru!" A squeaky voice teased. Dru giggled, turning to face Pansy as she gave her a quick hug. Theo stood behind her, glaring profusely at Harry. It didn't help much seeing as he was just a bit taller than the Slytherin boy. However, Nott was much bulkier than him, leaving Dru just a touch apprehensive. "I _know_ you know how to dance! Stop standing around and just _move_ dammit!" And with that encouragement, she left them to join with Daphne and Blaise, who were much more dignified compared to how jerky and explosive Theo and Pansy were together.

Dru sighed, turning back to Harry. Offering her hand, she felt pity for Harry and for herself. "We'll stay for _one_ song, then we can go find some peace at the tables."

Harry slowly nodded, nervously taking her hand as they begin to slow dance to the beat of the thundering bass from the band.

They danced through about ten songs, before noticing that they were panting. She dragged him back to the tables, still buzzing from the excitement of the dance. Harry looked a bit cheerier too, his face red from how hot it was in the now mob of students simply _screaming_ along to the music. Dru looked around, noticing a majority of the professors hid themselves away at their table, disgustingly shaking their heads in disapproval at the students.

They took seats beside Weasel and his date, much to her displeasure.

"Having _fun_ with the snake, Harry?" He sneered, crossing his arms as he glared at Hermione.

Dru quickly stood. She wasn't going to let a bitter oaf ruin her night. "I'll be fetching a refreshment if you need me, Harry."

She made her way through the raging crowd, avoiding careless shoves and dropped beverages to reach her destination. In fact, she as rather proud of herself for how graceful she navigated the room. She snatched a goblet and ladled pumpkin juice into. After a quick whiff, she determined that the Weasel Twins hadn't spiked the drink _yet_ with fire-whiskey. She smiled to herself, deciding to observe the room from her perch at the refreshment table.

To her utter dismay, that blonde Drumstrang boy was staring at her again. And quickly approaching.

He gave her a toothy grin, saddling up to her side to observe the room with her. She rolled her eyes, stepping forward to leave before she felt grisly hands gently wrap around her wrist.

"They call me Matthias. And what should I call you?"

She snorted, grey eyes glinting brightly. "Uninterested and unimpressed."

She was expecting him to scowl, to call her harsh names or even spit in her face. Dru was always prepared for the worst. It's what she has come to predict over her years as a Malfoy, an heiress, and a witch. Her nerve and snark were never welcomed. But this Drumstrang boy, _Matthias_, seemed to like proving people wrong.

He let loose a bout of laughter, stemming from deep within his gut and shaking throughout his belly. It deeply unnerved how relaxed he was, slouching back onto the wooden table. He flashed her another toothy smile, but this time it seemed a bit more appealing.

"'Uninterested and unimpressed' has snark! What a refreshing taste." She thoughtfully looked at him. He spoke English well enough with his normal syntax and sentence structure. However, she could hear the accent from probably years at the Russian school embedded into his voice. It made it breathy and raspy, drawing all the room's attention when he spoke. It left her more curious and wary then charmed. "So, what will I have to do to earn your name by the end of tonight?"

"Nothing that you could possibly do, seeing as how no _boy_ has ever done it."

He raised a brow. "And that will be?"

"Impress me." She haughtily said, enjoying this new game Matthias gave her.

"Witty as she is defiant." His voice rumbled. Offering his hand, he motioned to the dance floor. "Well?"

She considered his offer. Her fingers itched to firmly grasp his hands, drag him to the dance floor, and leave him at the mercy of a slightly tipsy Pansy and an overprotective Theo. She wanted to see just how clever he thought he was. Her mind craved to dissect him, break him done piece by piece to see how he ticks. Who was he? Rich and of high pureblood status? Or an oafish half-blood passing his way through his conquers with his charm? Just why did he set his sights on her? She had so many questions that she wanted answers. She _wanted_ to say yes, to give in to her selfish desires and maybe have a memorable night. A night where she can look back on when she's stuck in her boring marriage. Will she see it as a night of cat-and-mouse? Or regrets? Dru was so eager to dive in fully, to reap this boy's offer fully.

Then, she remembered Harry. Right, _he_ was her date, unfortunately. She couldn't go off and dance with someone else then, right?

She looked at him and saw him sulking with his best mate. Both longingly looked to the dance floor, bitter of their failures and resentful of their friend's joy. Her pity for them would only go so far before it drove her to insanity. Yes, she was Harry's friend. Yes, she said she would be his date tonight. But didn't exactly signed up to be lugged around by a heartbroken, kicked puppy. And she certainly _did not_ want to spend her night sitting beside one of the most incorrigible and vile beings of existence.

There was a reason she was a Slytherin. If the opportunity presented itself, she would reap all of its benefits, and grow tenfold from it.

Easily, she flashed a Malfoy smirk at the boy. "We will see then, won't we?"

* * *

Matthias Ducoure was as boring as he was predictable, Dru sadly discovered after two dances with him.

He was a pureblood, his family originating from Romania before moving the wealth to some boring estate outside of London. The middle child of five, he stood to inherit a measly fraction of his family fortune; Mother would approve seeing as he would easily agree to take the Malfoy name in exchange for its attached wealth and prestige. He hated Quidditch and preferred animals to wizard company. He aspired to work as a Dragonologist with hopes of joining the Romania Sanctuary lest _something_ convinced him to return to London, something utterly disgusting and terrifying if you'd ask Dru.

It was as if he was everything Dru mildly hated was combine in one handsome boy. It drove Dru up the wall!

"Thank you for the dances, Matthias," she said, eagerly letting his hand go. "But I believe that I should return to my date."

"Will I see you around the grounds, then?" He asked, his brown eyes widening.

"No, not likely, I'm afraid."

And Dru left him with a flourish of her dress, gagging quietly to herself as she wandered back to the seat beside Harry.

"Who was that?" He asked when she sat beside him, righting her dress as she gracefully crossed her legs.

She shrugged. "Nobody interesting. What a shame, seeing as how I wasted my time with him."

Ron snorted. "Nothing will satisfy the snotty princess unless Daddy buys it for her."

"Shove off, Weasel!" She sneered, eyes flashing. "I don't see your date around. She probably caught a whiff of your second-hand robes and disgusting attitude and ran for the hills."

"Dru," Harry whined, slouching into his seat as the two fumed at each other.

She rolled her eyes, turning away from the rude redhead. "I didn't realize a man's ego was so delicate of a thing to break. Then again, he didn't have much of a reason to have one."

"Have fun with that bitchy snake, Harry!" Ron hissed, standing to take his leave. "I bloody hate dances."

She ignored how Harry glared at her, choosing to look onto the dance floor. As the hours passed, it thinned out significantly. Only about half of the crowd remained, but they were still as raucous as ever.

"Dru..."

"I'm not apologizing for what I said." She tittered, turning back to see exhausted green eyes. "Besides, what stick was shoved up his arse anyway?"

"I'm not sure, but I think it has something to do with Hermione and Krum...?"

Dru snickered, catching onto the redhead pathetic qualms of the night. "Hermione could do much better than a petty boy who throws temper tantrums when things don't go his way."

"Dru!" Harry sighed again, raking his fingers over his face. "That's my best mate. Be a bit nicer, would ya?"

"When the sun freezes over and he learns what manners are will be the day, Harry. Until then, I am a victim of my effortless wit and snark."

"Did you want to dance more, or did you want to head back?" He finally asked. Good, he learned to drop the matter.

Dru looked at Harry. He was utterly exhausted and groggy, his eyelids fluttering close every once in a while. She considered herself to be a ruthless person, but she certainly wasn't cruel.

"I believe it's best we retire, Harry." She answered, gracefully standing up and offering her elbow. Harry stumbled to a stand, snaking his arm around her crook before dragging her towards the exit. She rolled her eyes when he tripped over the threshold. "Perhaps I need to take the lead again, lest we run into every wall before you're able to walk me back to my dormitory."

He only nodded, sleepily stumbling beside her as she easily guided them. It was a nice peace between them. Neither really had an urge to speak to one another. Dru was quite fine with that, happy to be left to her thoughts instead of having to keep up yet another boring conversation. When they found themselves at the end of the corridor that led to the entrance, she halted them.

Quietly, she let herself free from his grasp. "One could say that this night was actually _pleasant_."

Harry chuckled. "Suppose you could say that." He blinked again, green eyes matching the emerald haze of the air. "Goodnight, Dru."

"Goodnight, Harry."

Dru barely caught herself from giving him a kiss on the cheek as she has done countless times with her family's galas when farewelling honored guests and dance partners. It was proper pureblood etiquette, but Harry was just a friend and a half-blood, unknowledgeable in all manners and grace. So, she left him was a gentle squeeze of his hand before turning to leave. Despite all the looks and glares from the students, Dru enjoyed her night. Harry was a mediocre date at best, but much better than what she had expected. Certainly _much_ better then what other boys had to offer, especially Matthias. At least he always left her intrigued somewhat. Even with his heroics, Harry was fairly unpredictable at times. It left their friendship just a bit above average at best.

* * *

The rest of the Holiday was boring and trivial at best. Dru enjoyed spending some time with her friends, but she grew antsy. She couldn't stop thinking about Harry's golden egg from the first task, leading her to corner him once again. This time, she finds him staring off into the Black Lake, his golden egg at hand curiously enough.

"Have you any progress on it?" She said in a form of greeting, sitting elegantly beside him.

He only sighed, leaning back into the grass. "No. No bloody improvement."

She snickers. "Hmm... Maybe you could ask Cedric for help, seeing as how you helped him with the first task. A favor for a favor?"

He suddenly sat up, looking at her with bright green eyes before struggling to stand. "That's bloody brilliant, Dru!" He was just about to dash off to find the Golden Boy but, suddenly, his whole demeanor shifted. His shoulder sagged as he collapsed onto the grass, angrily resting his chin on his hand. "He's probably holding hands with Cho Chang right now, the bloody oaf."

He only cried minimally when Dru cuffed his head.

"First of all, only _I_ get to call people 'oafs.' Secondly, don't be some pathetic, pining puppy and go ask for help! It's as if you do have a death wish!"

He rolled his eyes at Dru. "Ugh, fine. Maybe later. I just want to sit here for a bit."

"To sulk or to try and crack the egg before you go ask him?"

"...Maybe a bit of both?"

* * *

January was a drag compared to the excitement of the Yule Ball in December. It left Dru time to focus on her studies and send letters to her parents. Father just returned from the States after a few weeks of haggling over a partnership with the magical schools in both countries. Apparently, they seek to start some sort of magical exchange student program. Dru prayed that they would not be hosting students, or that they would start the program _after_ she had graduated. She didn't have time for these lesser _American_ wizards if her Great Aunt Walburga taught her anything before her fortunate passing.

She assumed Harry would surely be focusing on solving the riddle the golden egg possesses after her firm reprimanding before class begins. However, as she saw his cloak slipped after he tripped downstairs leading to the dungeons, his Golden Egg clanking obnoxiously down each step of the stairs, she thought better than to assume that Harry will actually ever do what he is supposed to do.

"What in Bloody Merlin are you doing, _Potter_!" She hissed, angrily pinching his arm as he struggled to gather his dropped items into his arms.

"Be quiet!" He spat, pulling her under the cloak with him. He placed his finger on her mouth before she could even offer her typical retort. "Filch is coming!"

She huffed. She couldn't even offer a signature retort as Filch rounded the corner with a battle cry:

"PEEVES!"

They refused to breathe under the heavy cloak when the undeniable steps of the caretake shuffled in the corridor just past the tapestry. His wheezy voice raised in fury.

"What's this racket? Wake up the whole castle, will you? I'll have you, Peeves, I'll have you, you'll..." Dru almost let out an indignant breath when she saw Filch spot the wailing egg. Of course, _he_ of all people would find the damn thing. "And what is this? Oh! My sweet!" Mrs. Norris' beady eyes held no response. "This is a Triwizard clue! This belongs to a school champion."

Dru felt Harry's heart hammering loudly in his chest. She could feel his anxiety and fear grow larger by every second that past. He was practically quivering under the cloak. With a sharp jab to his side, she hushed him as they watched Mr. Filch curse out Peeves again. When he pulled past the tapestry to peer into the staircase, Dru almost gagged at his repulsive pouchy face and bulging eyes. Thankfully, Harry slightly pulled her back into his side, bringing just out of reach of his crooked nose.

As Mr. Filch reached a knobbly hand into the staircase, they heard a voice call to the caretaker.

"Filch? What's going on?"

Never before had Dru been so happy to see her favorite professor stare lividly at him and his cat. Not even his long gray nightshirt and hat could diminish his cold gaze. It sent cold chills down her spine.

"It's Peeves, Professor," Filch whispered bitterly. "He threw this egg down the stairs."

Professor Snape quickly climbed up the stairs, stopping just beside Filch. He was only a few steps away from the pair. Despite being his favorite pupil, Dru new that wouldn't spare her now given her current position: hiding underneath an Invisibility Cloak with _Harry Potter_ after curfew. Yes, not even Father could save her from this predicament. The only thing she could do was steady her heart and hold her breath.

"Peeves...?" Professor Snape softly said to himself, staring intently at the egg in the caretaker's hands. "But Peeves couldn't get into my office..."

"This egg was in your office, Professor?"

"Of course not! I heard banging and wailing—"

"Yes, Professor, that was the egg—"

"—I was coming to investigate—"

"—Peeves threw it, Professor—"

"—and when I passed my office, I saw that the torches were lit and a cupboard door was ajar! Somebody has been searching it!"

"But Peeves couldn't—"

"I know he couldn't, Filch!" Professor Snape snapped. "I seal my office with a spell none but a wizard could break. It _obviously_ couldn't be some poltergeist. However..." He paused, searching the corridor and stairs again, eyes going past the pair hiding under the cloak. "Filch, I want you to come and help me search for the intruder!"

"I—yes, Professor—but—!"

_No you bloody_ fool! Dru hissed to herself. _Go with Professor Snape. Leave this filthy and cold corridor so I can finally get some bloody rest and maybe some answers from Harry!_

Thankfully, Dru didn't have to worry much longer as strange clunking sounds were heard down the corridor. As she was silently praising herself for her victory she saw just _who_ joined the unfortunate midnight party in the stairs: Mad-Eye Moody. Bloody brilliant.

"Pajama party, is it?" the retired Auror growled, leaning heavily on his staff.

"Professor Snape and I heard noises, Professor," said Filch at once. "Peeves the Poltergeist, throwing things around as usual—and then Professor Snape discovered that someone had broken into his off—"

"Shut up!" Snape hissed to Filch.

Moody took a step closer to the foot of the stairs. Dru saw Moody's magical eye travel over Snape, and then, unmistakably, onto the pair. Her heart gave a horrible jolt. Moody could see through Invisibility Cloaks . . . he alone could see the full strangeness of the scene: Snape in his nightshirt, Filch clutching the egg, and Dru and Harry, trapped under the cloak in the stairs just behind them with terrified faces. Moody's lopsided gash of a mouth opened in surprise. For a few seconds, he and Harry stared straight into each other's eyes. Then Moody closed his mouth and turned his blue eye upon Snape again.

"Did I hear that correctly, Snape?" he asked slowly. "Someone broke into your office?"

"It is unimportant," said Professor Snape coldly.

"On the contrary," growled Moody, "it is very important. Who'd want to break into your office?"

"A student, I daresay," said Professor Snape. "It has happened before. Potion ingredients have gone missing from my private store cupboard . . . students attempting illicit mixtures, no doubt. . . ."

"Reckon they were after potion ingredients, eh?" said Moody. "Not hiding anything else in your office, are you?"

"You know I'm hiding nothing, Moody," he said in a soft and dangerous voice, leaving even Dru shivering in fear, "as you've searched my office pretty thoroughly yourself."

Moody's face twisted into a smile. "Auror's privilege, Snape. Dumbledore told me to keep an eye—"

"Dumbledore happens to trust me," said Snape through clenched teeth. "I refuse to believe that he gave you orders to search my office!"

"'Course Dumbledore trusts you," growled Moody. "He's a trusting man, isn't he? Believes in second chances. But me — I say there are spots that don't come off, Snape. Spots that never come off, d'you know what I mean?"

Snape suddenly did something very strange. He seized his left forearm convulsively with his right hand, as though something on it had hurt him. Dru stared intently on just where he focused on his arm. Undeniably, it's _exactly_ where the Death Mark would be. Dru only knew this thanks to her one visit to see her Auntie Bella when she was younger. Just _what_ was Professor Snape insinuating...?

Moody laughed. "Get back to bed, Snape."

"You don't have the authority to send me anywhere!" Snape hissed, letting go of his arm as though angry with himself. "I have as much right to prowl this school after dark as you do!"

"Prowl away," said Moody, but his voice was full of menace. "I look forward to meeting you in a dark corridor some time. . . . You've dropped something, by the way. . . ." Dru heard Harry gasp as he pointed to the piece of parchment further down the stairs. She turned curiously to him, wondering just what was the significance of this old parchment was to him.

As Snape and Filch both turned to look at it, Harry threw caution to the winds, much to Dru's disdain; he raised his arms under the cloak and waved furiously at Moody to attract his attention. She saw him mouth that the parchment belonged to him. She turned back to Mad-Eye Moody, wondering what he would do.

Snape had reached out for it, a horrible expression of dawning comprehension on his face —

"_Accio Parchment!_"

The map flew up into the air, slipped through Snape's outstretched fingers, and soared down the stairs into Moody's hand.

"My mistake," Moody said calmly. "It's mine—must've dropped it earlier—"

But Professor Snape's black eyes were darting from the egg in Filch's arms to the map in Moody's hand, and Harry could tell he was putting two and two together, as only he could. . . .

"Potter," he said quietly.

"What's that?" said Moody calmly, folding up the map and pocketing it.

"Potter!" The potions master snarled, and he actually turned his head and stared right at the place where Harry was, as though he could suddenly see him. "That egg is Potter's egg. That piece of parchment belongs to Potter. I have seen it before, I recognize it! Potter is here! Potter, in his Invisibility Cloak!"

Snape stretched out his hands like a blind man and began to move up the stairs; Dru could have sworn his over-large nostrils were dilating, trying to sniff Harry out—trapped, she further leaned backward into Harry. He had to hold onto her, bracing them against the wall, trying to avoid Snape's fingertips, but any moment now—

"There's nothing there, Snape!" barked Moody, "but I'll be happy to tell the headmaster how quickly your mind jumped to Harry Potter!"

"Meaning what?" Professor Snape turned again to look at Moody, his hands still outstretched, inches from Dru's chest.

"Meaning that Dumbledore's very interested to know who's got it in for that boy!" said Moody, limping nearer still to the foot of the stairs.

"And so am I, Snape . . . very interested. . . ." The torchlight flickered across his mangled face, so that the scars, and the chunk missing from his nose, looked deeper and darker than ever.

Professor Snape was looking down at Moody, and Harry couldn't see the expression on his face. For a moment, nobody moved or said anything. Then he slowly lowered his hands.

"I merely thought," said Professor Snape, in a voice of forced calm, "that if Potter was wandering around after hours again . . . it's an unfortunate habit of his . . . he should be stopped. For—for his own safety."

"Ah, I see," said Moody softly. "Got Potter's best interests at heart, have you?"

"I think I will go back to bed," The potions professor said curtly.

"Best idea you've had all night," said Moody. "Now, Filch, if you'll just give me that egg—"

"No!" said Filch, clutching the egg as though it were his firstborn son. "Professor Moody, this is evidence of Peeves' treachery!"

"It's the property of the champion he stole it from," said Moody. "Hand it over, now."

Professor Snape swept downstairs and passed Moody without another word. Filch made a chirruping noise to Mrs. Norris, who stared blankly at Harry and Dru for a few more seconds before turning and following her master. Still breathing very fast, Dru heard Professor Snape walking away down the corridor; Filch handed Moody the egg and disappeared from view too, muttering to Mrs. Norris. "Never mind, my sweet . . . we'll see Dumbledore in the morning . . . tell him what Peeves was up to. . . ."

With the slamming of a door, Dru was left staring fiercely at a very pissy Moody.

"Just in what in bloody hell were you lot thinking!" He muttered, his mechanical eye whirring specifically at Dru. She pushed herself off of Harry, pulling the cloak off of her to glare right back at him He didn't scare her. Very little did, so she wasn't letting some mangy and rude bitter old man rip her a new one.

"Excuse you!" She sneered, crossing her arms over her thick emerald green jumper. "But I was merely walking back to my dormitory from the Library when I was forced into hiding."

"Dru!" Harry weakly said.

She paused, realizing she easily handed him off. "Sorry, Harry."

Moody rolled his one good eye before seizing the rest of the cloak off of Harry. He glared furiously at Dru, seizing her up as he took another step up to meet her height. She refused to back down, especially to the likes of _him_.

"S'right, Harry," Moody muttered. "I know better to believe a Malfoy about anything when lies are the tongue they speak. Fifteen points from Slytherin!"

"How dare you—!"

"Professor!" Harry quickly plead, placing himself in front of Dru. "Dru was helping me pick up my things before Snape and Filch showed up. She was only trying to help me! Honest!"

Moody stared quietly at the pair. Finally, he relented. "Close shave, then, Potter."

"Yeah... I—er...thanks?" Harry answered.

Dru snorted. "I suppose you will not be returning the wrongfully stolen points from Slytherin, hmm?"

"Miss Malfoy! Please enlighten me again as to why a _student_ speaks so disrespectfully to a _professor_, hm?" Blinking back her surprise, she bit her tongue, refusing to apologize and admit to her mistake. He clicked his tongue "And that is exactly why points were taken." He turned to Harry again, ignoring the fuming Dru in favor to interrogate his supposedly favorite pupil. "What is this thing?"

Dru watched him take the parchment out of his pocket, unfolding it gently. She turned expectantly to Harry, wondering the exact same query.

"Map of Hogwarts." He answered, brushing off the obvious significance of the paper like it was _nothing_.

Mad-Eye Moody caught on to the map's importance. "Merlin's beard," he whispered to himself. Staring at the map, his magical-eye went haywire as it studied the parchment. "This... this is some map, Potter!"

"Yeah, it's... quite useful," Harry said, quite uncomfortable as he fidgeted with his hands.

"Potter . . ." he said slowly, "you didn't happen, by any chance, to see who broke into Snape's office, did you? On this map, I mean?"

"Er . . . yeah, I did . . ." Harry admitted. "It was Mr. Crouch."

Moody's magical eye whizzed over the entire surface of the map. He looked suddenly alarmed.

"Crouch?" he said. "You're — you're sure, Potter?"

"Positive," said Harry.

Dru bristled to herself, not liking one bit that she was pointedly being ignored as the two boys carried on like she wasn't there, leaning against the cold castle, waiting to finally earn some rest. Then again, she needed to grill Harry about just what he was doing out so late, and why he had the need to investigate the Dungeons.

"Well, he's not here anymore," finally said Moody, his eye still whizzing over the map. "Crouch . . . that's very—very interesting. . . ."

He said nothing for almost a minute, still staring at the map. Both students could tell that this news meant something to Moody. Dru very much wanted to know what it was. She wondered whether he dared ask. Then again, this was Mad-Eye Moody. He was incorrigible as he was paranoid. To ask him would be like begging for him to dissect her very soul with that stupid magical eye and have her written up for no bloody good reason. So, Dru bit her tongue again, something she was not planning on doing any more after tonight.

"Er . . . Professor Moody . . . why d'you reckon Mr. Crouch wanted to look around Snape's office?"

Apparently Harry had the balls to ask him. Dru didn't know if she should thank his Gryffindor guts or his constant death wish. She favored that it was a fair mixing of both.

Moody's magical eye left the map and fixed, quivering, upon Harry. It was a penetrating glare, and Dru had the impression that Moody was sizing him up, wondering whether to answer or not, or how much to tell him—them, actually, seeing as how Dru was standing right there!

"Put it this way, Potter," Moody muttered finally, glaring directly at Dru as his next words cut into her, "they say old Mad-Eye's obsessed with catching Dark wizards . . . but I'm nothing — nothing — compared to Barty Crouch."

He continued to stare at the map.

"Professor Moody?" Harry said again; Dru thoughtfully looked at him, wondering where all of this curiosity came from. "D'you think . . . could this have anything to do with . . . maybe Mr. Crouch thinks there's something going on. . . ."

"Like what?" said Moody sharply.

"I don't know," Harry muttered, "odd stuff's been happening lately, hasn't it? It's been in the Daily Prophet . . . the Dark Mark at the World Cup, and the Death Eaters and everything. . . ."

Both of Moody's mismatched eyes widened.

"You're a sharp boy, Potter," he said. His magical eye roved back to the Marauder's Map without first glaring at Dru yet again. "Crouch could be thinking along those lines," he said slowly. "Very possible . . . there have been some funny rumors flying around lately— helped along by Rita Skeeter, of course. It's making a lot of people nervous, I reckon." A grim smile twisted his lopsided mouth. "Oh if there's one thing I hate," he muttered, more to himself than to Harry, and his magical eye was fixed on the left-hand corner of the map, "it's a Death Eater who walked free. . . ."

And it was to Dru's great disgust that he oh so blatantly stared at her when he said that last bit, finally breaking her muteness throughout the whole debacle.

"Excuse me, _Professor_," Dru sweetly snarked, placing herself between Harry and the ex-Auror. "But I believe that Harry and I should best return to our dormitories, seeing as how awfully late it is."

Mad-Eye Moody bristled at the girl. "Yes, I believe so, Miss Malfoy."

Dru was used to how people said her last name: with great fear, reference, surprise, and annoyance. But how that rugged and broken old fool said left such a deep and unfurling fury within her had never happened before. He truly hated her and her family, no doubt, because Father was an excused Death Eater. She was his blood, therefore she was to be assumed to be his similar. It drove Dru up the bloody wall, not that she was ashamed of her Father. No, she respected the man, even with his terrifying threats and warnings. Still, it was the principle. If the girl was to make a name for herself, to step out of her father's legacy, then she needed to separate herself from him to make room.

But this ignorant tool just saw to smash her progress whilst mocking her!

She coldly looked to the clenched parchment in his hand, as well as the Golden Egge resting in the crook of his elbow.

"And I believe it is best to return those items to Harry, seeing as they are _his_ property after all."

She ignored how Harry winced behind her when Moody growled at the lot of them. She was much too furious to care for his opinion right now. If he would just hand over the bloody parchment and egg, the sooner she could interrogate Harry and then finally get some damn sleep!

Moody turned to Harry. "Actually, Potter, I have a favor to ask. Mind if I borrow this map for a bit?"

She coolly glared at Harry, ordering him to say no with her eyes.

"Um, sure," said Harry sheepishly, scratching his head again when Moody handed him the egg.

Dru fumed as the professor bid the duo a good night, ignoring her as he left Harry with one last bit of advice. "You ever thought of a career as an Auror, Potter?"

"No," said Harry, taken aback.

Moody nodded. "You want to consider it, seeing as how you managed to wrangle a Malfoy."

Harry barely held back Dru as the professor made his escape, a cocky and lopsided smirk marring his face as he passed them to head to his sleeping quarters. When he left, he let her go, unleashing her blinding rage.

"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!" She shrieked, harshly prodding her finger into his collarbone. He winced, pushing it away as he stared at her. Crossing his arms, he waited patiently for her to tire of her tantrum. "Why would you willingly give away a parchment _clearly_ so valuable that you have kept it hidden for who knows how long! I mean honestly, Harry! Do you understand what he can do with something as, as powerful as that?!"

"Are you finished?"

She bristled. "No, far from it, but I believe I deserve some bloody answers as to _what_ exactly you were doing taking a midnight stroll with the egg, the cloak, and the stupid parchment?"

"I was listening to Cedric's advice." He muttered, emerald eyes sleepily blinking. "I figured out how to open it."

Dru paused. "Brilliant! What did it say? How did you do it? Was it helpful? What are you—?"

"Dru." Harry snapped. "I'm tired. Let me go to bed."

"Not until you answer me this." She said. "What exactly is that map and where did you get it?"

"I'm not telling you that!"

"Fine! Then I'm calling in one of my favors!"

Harry blinked. Then blinked again, pouting. "You remembered those?"

She nodded furiously, crossing her arms over her jumper. "Well? Get on with it!"

Harry sighed. "George and Fred gave it to me last year. They found it somewhere and have been using it to get around Hogwarts without being caught. It, it shows you where everyone is and where they are walking as long as they are within Hogwarts grounds."

"Is that how you found the passage from last year?" _Where you had a major depressive episode and I had to sit and play babysitter for an hour_ was left unsaid.

Harry nodded. He continued, "No one can know about it. Only you, Ron, Hermione, the twins, Remus, Snape, and Moody know about it."

"Yes, yes, sworn to secrecy and all of that entails." Dru waved off, looking closely at Harry. "I have another favor left, but I'll save that for another time. I will find you later to interrogate more about your findings."

"Fine, whatever, Dru."

She rolled her eyes. "Well, goodnight to you then, Harry."

Hurriedly running down the steps towards the dungeons, she almost didn't hear Harry's call for her to stop. She turned back, expectantly waiting for him to get on with it so she can go to bed.

"Sorry about what Moody said, well, er... about your family."

Taken aback, she stood there. Thankfully, only a moment passed before she was able to collect herself again. There he was again: unpredictable and neutral Wonder-Boy.

"Um, thanks, I suppose." She uncertainly said. What was she supposed to say to that? Thank you for defending my murdering father? Thank you for having some decency? Sorry but I don't need your apologies for his obvious prejudice?

Harry nodded, slowly walking up the stairs towards the main floor. "Right. Goodnight, Dru."

"Yes, right."

* * *

Dru didn't bother hounding Harry down for answers about the riddle for the Second Task. She just saught after Hermione a few days later in the library where she normally retired after her late classes. Without much encouragement, Hermione spilled all that she, Weasel, and Harry knew about what the task would entail. Much to her displeasure, it involved the Black Lake and retrieving "the thing he would miss most."

Despite what most would assume, not all Slytherins enjoyed the Black Lake. While it certainly held stunning views in the common room and some windows of the dormitories, Dru quite disliked it. Too often she found the cruel and trickster smirks of the merpeople who cared to scare the first-years. It was an unspoken agreement amongst the house to not willingly divulge their existence to the other houses. Slytherins knew the power of secrets. Sadly, the Ministry and stupid Crouch and Bagman sought to ruin that secret.

Still, the second quest was much like the first: overcome an obstacle to retrieve the prize without harming yourself. Dru quite hated the pattern, seeing as how the obstacles were life-threatening and nearly impossible. Then again, there's a reason why they chose these events. Surely there's some sort of logic to this insanity? Dru snorted to herself at the thought: not bloody likely.

Still, as Dru resigned herself to research more about the Black Lake and possibly charms and potions for breathing underwater, she chewed herself over her failure to help Harry. Despite all of her bravado and ego, she hadn't been much help these past months. It seemed someone figured out the important clue or tip just before she would've reached it. She made a promise to help Harry because he was a friend—a friend with other friends in high places and had the potential for helping her greatly in her future endeavors of becoming Minister of Magic or something of equal power and prestige.

But, what was she getting out of this agreement _now_?

She chewed her lip, taking notes for Transfiguration and Arithmancy on the evening of the week before the Second Task. Harry and Hermione still hadn't made much progress in finding a solution with surviving underwater long enough for an hour. Dru hadn't made much progress either, leaving to her resign to finishing her notes and other assignments. Sadly, she didn't make as much progress as she had wished when Madam Pinch shooed her out of the library, still bitter about Dru escaping her last rounds weeks ago when Moody discovered her and Harry. Exactly a minute after eight o'clock, she found herself locked out of the Library, forced to return to the Slytherin common room to retire for the night.

As she moped into her dormitory where the other Slytherin girls her year chatted, she collapsed on her bed.

"There you are, Dru!" Daphne greeted, looking away from her book to smile at her. Pansy was laying with her, letting the older girl play with her hair as she snored away. Tracey and Millie offered sweet greetings before returning back to their deep conversation.

Dru nodded. "Hullo, Daph."

"We didn't see you at breakfast or lunch today," said Daphne. "And you left after dinner in such a rush that we haven't been able to give your mail."

"Mail?"

Daphne nodded, pointing to Dru's desk where a pristine letter awaited her with the Malfoy seal stamped over the opening. She slowly picked it up, inspecting it before carefully opening it.

"It's from Father." She mumbled, quietly sitting in her chair before reading:

_My Dearest Druella,_

_I will be in Hogsmeade on Thursday afternoon. I have already spoken to Severus. He has agreed to release you from your afternoon block as well as the essay he had planned to assign. I will expect you to be waiting for me in the Viaduct Courtyard promptly at two o'clock. We will be having an early tea. I have some important topics to discuss with you. Please dress accordingly._

—_Your Father_

_Lucius Malfoy,_

_Head of Malfoy Manor_

"Well?" Daphne prompted.

"He wants me to have tea with him on Thursday," Dru answered, softly setting the letter down.

"Surely it mustn't be that horrible." the blond appeased. "Otherwise, he would've owled Headmaster Dumbledore for an emergency meeting in his office."

Dru snorted. "You underestimate Father's utter disdain for Dumbledore. I'm... not sure what to expect, but I'll tell you of it afterward."

Daphne nodded, leaving Dru to her thoughts as she readied for bed. She didn't sleep well that night, too consumed trying to deduce just what Father would want to speak with her about.

* * *

She didn't realize just how tricky time was when you were dreading an upcoming event. It slowly crawled at first, leaving her to consume herself with theories and predictions of just _what_ Father had the wish to discuss with her. No doubt it was an important topic with his need to seek her in-person but didn't narrow the possibilities. It was also unhelpful with how vague and dubious he had been in the letter. He only gave Dru orders; if you were to ask her father, he would say that they weren't orders, but rather suggestions that he undoubtedly knew she would adhere to as she was his daughter and he had the utmost faith in her obedience.

That thought left a shaky chuckle to escape her as she hid away in the library. In fact, it's where she spent the majority of her free time as of late. With the break of Quidditch, she had more time on her hands then she knew what to do with. Dru figured at one point she should be spending time with her friends, but it was... _awkward_, as of late.

Much to her displeasure, she knew that it was because of how they were coupled now and Dru was simply not. She noticed they often took to spending all their time together in pairs or a double of pairs. Whether it be sitting together in the common room having a chat, or working together on assignments or joining each other with their Hogsmeade trips, they were undoubtedly in units of two. Dru often found herself straggling behind, trying to keep up with their pace. It seemed they had adopted a new shorthand in the moments where Dru was absent. Shared jokes and stories left a gap in between her closeness with them.

She utterly despised it, yet it seemed she was the only one who saw the widening gap becoming a great canyon between her and her beloved friends.

At her darkest of times, when The Nothingness soothed in through the deepest of restless nights, she believed that they saw it, but didn't care much for it.

Furthermore, she knew she was partly to blame. As graceful and adept she was in socializing with the social elite and the shrewd Sacred Twenty-Eight, she was struggling with maintaining personal and meaningful friendships. The girls share that same sentiment, going as far as sharing it with her multiple times throughout their years at Hogwarts; it seemed more of a yearly tradition now for her gaggle of friends to corner her and sagely prod out all of her feelings and insecurities in a night of great sorrow and openness.

From the anxiety of her second-year, the developing friendship with Harry, and the rising worry of Father's dark dealings were kept in an impenetrable vault. They only managed to coerce small pieces of her worries. The Nothingness knew her best and was a selfish thing; it kept her all to itself, leaving Dru alone.

But, as she heard the clock tower's chime to announce the arrival of two o'clock in the afternoon, she made a decision. Dru would remedy this loneliness that gripped her. After her meeting with Father, she would seek them out. That is if Father would leave her unharmed with how late she was to their meeting.

She ran to the courtyard, though she would never admit as such. Just before she broke into the open air, Dru prepared herself. With her head held high and a cool look upon her face, she braced herself to face her father.

"Druella, darling, it seems your manners have suffered whilst you waste away in these walls." Lucius Malfoy drawled. While his face was neutral, Dru saw how his jaw twitched; he was certainly annoyed.

She bowed her head in repentance, before looking to him again. "I apologize for my tardiness, Father. I found myself too focused on my studies in the Library."

"Malfoys never give excuses, Druella." He hissed, offering his arm to his only daughter. "I thought I have instilled this into you already. Excuses are for those who feign repentance and seek the abolishment of their own guilt. We are above that weakness."

Dru nodded. "Yes, Father. It appears that I am... forgetful of your lessons at times."

"Certainly so," He nodded. "Still, I find myself thrilled to see you. I was remorse to have you stay at Hogwarts this past Christmas. You were sorely missed. However, your mother spoke with me about the Yule Ball. Was it to your taste?"

She nodded again, still looking forward as they walked to Hogsmeade. "Yes, Father. It reminded me of the Christmas Eve galas you and Mother hold every year."

"Rightly so."

She swore she saw the faintest ghost of a smile upon her father's face.

They didn't speak much after that, content with the now easy silence between them. It was something Dru adored—her father's willingness to be in silence. Mother always saught the need to fill it with polite talk and opinions. Dru deduced it was mostly of her etiquette lessons she had when she was younger; the very same ones she only finished just before Hogwarts no doubt. She enjoyed Mother's chats sometimes, but she much preferred the chosen quietness shared between her and her father. It spoke of how comfortable they were with each other, despite the questionable acts committed by the older man over the years.

They remained in silence as he guided her to the Three Broomsticks. He greeted Madam Rosmerta with a stiff nod, calling for tea. Dru's eyes remained on her father's cane, collecting herself through its simple rhythm as she followed him to one of the back tables. Even as the barmaid placed two steaming cups of tea before them along with milk and sugar and honey, Dru was still. She refused to speak first. It was one of Father's tactics in discerning the person's manner and comfortableness. He used it for his purposes as Head of the Department of Internal Cooperation, specifically in how to proceed in manipulating the other person. Dru quickly picked up this for herself. She knew full well that it was _never_ a good practice to speak first and so suddenly.

So she waited. She could play his game. Dru was, after all, her father's daughter: the Malfoy Heir.

Her father lazily held her gaze, enjoying his tea. Finally, _finally_, he spoke first.

"Why I enjoy the peace found in mutual silence, I have important affairs to attend to, Druella. I'm afraid that I do not have time for waiting for you to speak. As such, I will begin. How have your classes been faring?"

Dru slowly pulled the tea to her lips, measuring her father's glance. Intrigued and engaged to a superficial extent. A soft opening for his obvious interrogation.

"Very well, Father." Dru easily answered. "I especially find Potions and Ancient Runes intriguing. How has your project for the magical student exchange been progressing?"

"Well enough, I suppose. MACUSA is a very... specific and determined group of wizards for me to work with. However, I have no doubts that it will proceed as planned after the next meeting. Tell me about the Triwizard Tournament. I understand the Second Task is quickly coming upon the Champions, yes?"

Dru nodded. "Yes. Harry Potter and Viktor Krum are tied for first, with Cedric Diggory following in second and Fleur Delacour in third. With how... aggressive the First Task was, I'm sure the Second will be much more difficult and trying. Slytherin, however, has faith in Diggory to easily overcome this challenge."

"I see. So you have placed your hopes into the Hufflepuff _instead_ of The Boy Who Lived? How very... interesting."

"Yes..." Dru slowly said, her eyes narrowing.

"Tell me then, of your thoughts of Harry Potter." Lucius prompted, easily meeting the surprised look of his daughter's eyes. "From what I have heard, it seems you and the boy are... _friends_."

Dru blinked. "I suppose one could argue that. However, I see us more as rivals who have negotiated a truce. With my studies, Quidditch, and my upcoming OWLS come next spring, I do not have time for his childish and petty games."

"Rivals. How _quaint_ of a term..." Her father sneered. "I find it most interesting of how you could even consider _going_ to the Yule Ball with a rival rather than a respectable wizard from Slytherin or Drumstrang." _So... That's what he wanted to ask me about_. "Even more so, I would like to understand the foolish reasoning behind your choice to neglect your obligations of telling your family just _who_ you choose to spend your time with. Tell me, Dru. Do you actually enjoy that Mudblood's presence?"

She winced to herself, knowing full well that she was foolish to forget about the obvious spies Father and Mother would have in Hogwarts. With the likes of Crabbe and Goyle easily swayed by monetary compensation, she could never have the privacy and autonomy she craved. No. She was a Malfoy always, trapped in her duties and responsibilities. She was caught now, she knew that much. Dru wasn't stupid enough to think she could lie. No. But perhaps she could clarify her intentions in a way to appease him.

"While Harry Potter was certainly _not_ my first choice as a date for the Yule Ball, you cannot deny he was not an acceptable one. A Champion of the Tournament and Britain's beloved hero. The public's adoration for him would most certainly help our family's less than agreeable reputation, wouldn't you say? And yes, I had to, unfortunately, mingle with that Muggle-born, but I believe that was outweighed by how positively I have been received _now_ because I was Harry Potter's date. Rita Skeeter had marvelous things to say about us."

"Rita Skeeter's words are to be as trusted as much as I trust that twisted and manipulative Dumbledore!" Lucius growled, clenching the top of his cane tightly. "I did not realize I had to warn you of the likes of Mr. Potter. Perhaps I placed too much faith into your abilities, Druella."

"Just three years ago, you told me to befriend him! What has changed now, Father?"

"The Dark Lord will _not_ be pleased with how you so carelessly follow those fools. I ordered you to observe him, help guide him in the _right_ direction. You were supposed to be the bridge to him accepting our philosophy! But it seems not even my own _daughter_ can follow the simplest of orders. I cannot protect you if you fail _His_ orders as well!"

Dru snorted; she would never admit defeat. Father tolerated no weakness in his household. The Sacred Twenty-Eight was proud, so she would play that part till the very end. "But he is not returning, Father! Harry Potter killed Lord Voldemort over thirteen years ago. A wizard, no great and powerful as he, can come back from death. No one is above that!"

"Silence!" Her father suddenly hissed, eyes frantically searching the room. Once again, he became the haggard and paranoid man that haunted her family's home this past year. His voice lilted as he warned her. "You know not of what you speak!"

"Then please explain to me what I am obviously failing to grasp!"

"I cannot, Druella. You are not to be trusted as seen with your actions these past two years. But I will tell you this. Harry Potter will only lead you down a path of misery and regret. Stay away from the likes of him and his inferior friends. You, my dear, were born of the highest and most superior blood. You are destined for greatness and achievements. Do _not_ waste that for the likes of him and his foolish escapades."

"And," said Dru, breath stuttering, "and if I don't?"

"Then I am not sure even I can save you from the Dark Lord's rage." Quietly exhaling, he reached to grasp his daughter's hand. His hands were cold but smooth like hers, but much more worn and wrinkled. Still, she found solace with them, despite the overwhelming threat and fear embued in his response. "You are a Malfoy, Druella. It is time you must start acting like one!"

* * *

It seemed like Daphne, Pansy and the rest of the Slytherin agreed with Father's sentiments. When she relayed his warning and threat to the girls, Daphne was quick to agree with him while Pansy was much more reluctant. Theo and Blaise soon caught ear too of her meeting and encouraged her to listen to him. They pressed her to think first of her family, her house, and herself. Blaise, particularly, was rather passionate when he spoke with her on the way to their Transfiguration.

"Think about it, Dru. We, meaning Theo, Daphne, Pansy, and I, we're there for you first before Potter ever was. We were your friends before you weirdly reached a truce with him. We will always be there. Slytherins protect their own, while those Gryffindors are easily quick to turn on anyone who they see threatens them."

Dru scoffed, clutching her bag tighter to her side. "Please. They are too dull and reckless to think that ahead, Blaise. I'm not worried about Father's warning. I'm more so worried about the implication that the _Dark Lord_ will return!"

"No, Dru!" Blaise hissed, looking around the hall to see if anyone had heard them. "You are missing the point. When he does return, and you know just as well as I do that he _will_, will Potter and them still be friends with the daughter of a Death Eater?"

She couldn't answer that. Not even she knew, and it terrified her.

Blaise sighed, giving her hand a quick squeeze. "Know who your true friends are, Dru. You should listen to your Father, but even I know no one can force you to do anything... Just think about it, alright?"

She nodded, watching him join Daphne at their table as they entered the class. Dru took her place at the empty table, happy to be left alone throughout the lecture and application portions. She despised by who easily she had been forced to rethink all of her past decisions. From befriending Harry to joining him to the Yule Ball, so much has changed between them. They were friends—real friends. Certainly not as close as she was with Daphne and Pansy and him with Weasel and Hermione; they will probably never become that friendly.

What had she been thinking? Why was she doing this? What benefits does she gain from being his friend? As of yet, he had done_ nothing_ for her despite causing her trouble and grief. Sure, he had inadvertently saved her life first year in the forest and saved her a night of boredom and humiliation at the Yule Ball. Even now, he owed her favors! Friends shouldn't owe friends anything, according to her understanding of Hufflepuff's loyalty. She had been there for so much more—she had done so much for him. But, what was she gaining from this?

_Friendship_—a_cceptance beyond your blood purity, status, and wealth._

Dru snorted to herself. She quietly penned down her notes of the lesson as the professor trolled on and on about the subject, letting herself run away from these intrusive and personal epiphanies; just as so she was taught by Father and Mother all of these years.

* * *

Had Druella known the second task was to be at Black Lake, she would've passed on attending the event. As much as she enjoyed the last weeks of winter before it melted into that Merlin awful humid spring, she never did enjoy the concepts of "cold" and "wet" together. Especially now as she wore her thickest wool sweater. The thought of it becoming wet and _heavy_ was not appeasing to her.

Still, she promised her friends and Harry she would attend the event. If Dru was to fulfill her self-made vow to become a better friend, certainly a good place to start would be to show up to the task _on time_.

As she dashed through the lower floors, she almost would have missed the distinctively missed the familiar house-elf exiting the kitchens in a flurry of limbs.

"Dobby!" Dru happily cried.

Dobby froze, flashing before his ex-mistress with tears dripping down his face. He embraced her leg, sobbing into it as he greeted her. "Oh, Little Mistress Malfoy!"

"Dobby!" Dru asked, pulling her leg free as she knelt before him. His large eyes perked happily at her. "What on Merlin's good earth are you doing here?"

"Oh! Dobby works here now, Misses!"

Dru cocked her head. "Oh, in the kitchens I take it?" Dobby nodded. "I wish you would have told me, Dobby. I've missed you terribly these past years without at Malfoy Manor."

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say to the freed house-elf.

He tearfully blubbered to her his apologies, drawing a strained grimace from Dru. "Dobby is so, so, sorry! Dobby has wrongeds you, Misses. Dobby left! Bad Dobby! Bad, bad, bad Dobby!"

Dru snorted. "Enough of that, Dobby! It seems your happy here at Hogwarts, so that's all I can hope for now. But please let me come in every so often. I would love for you to make me your lavender tea again. Our new house-elf doesn't brew it as you did for me."

"Dobby would be honoreds, Misses!" Dobby blinked, remembering why he was leaving the kitchens. "Would, Little Mistress know where Harry Potter would be, Misses?"

"Oh," Dru said, tilting her to the side as she thought. "Seeing as how it's about twenty minutes from the Second Task, I should say he's already at the Black Lake."

"Harry Potter is missing!" Dobby crowed, fretfully searching their corridor for just a glimpse of shaggy raven hair.

Dru rolled her eyes. "Of course he is. Can't even show up to his own competitions now, can he." She began her brisk stroll towards Black Lake again with a nervous Dobby following her heels. As she scrunched her nose, she listed off potentials places where he would be hiding. "Well, I would first check his dormitory, the library, and Hagrid's Hut... There is also the Prefect's bathroom or Moaning Mrytle's bathroom as well, or even the Quidditch Pitch. I would try those locations first before seeking Headmaster Dumbledore for his assistance."

Dobby dutifully nodded, his ears perking up in hope. "Thank-you, thank-you, Misses! Dobby musts find Harry Potter so he can save his Wheezy!"

And with a pop, the house-elf was gone, leaving an irritated Dru to return her walk to the Second Task. _Wheezy? What's a Wheezy?_

* * *

As she saw Viktor Krum pull Hermione Granger out of the cold and frigid lake, Dru realized just what a Wheezy was, or _who_ to be more accurate.

"Bloody Weasel is at the bottom of the lake!" Dru gritted out to Daphne, her teeth chattering in the cold.

Her friend nodded, huddling closer to her under their shared blanket. "Well, it seems so, Dru. Wonder who the other Champions will be saving."

Pansy snorted. "Obviously, Diggory will be saving his lovey-dovey Cho Chang. The question is which lucky _boy_ will be saved by Fleur Delacour."

"Yeah, just who is the lucky chap anyways," Theo muttered to himself, looking far too down when his girlfriend was just next to him, huddled under their shared blanket.

Dru felt no remorse when she saw Pansy harshly jab him in the side. She turned back to Daphne, watching as Diggory did appear from the murky depths with his girlfriend, the Ravenclaw seeker. Time drew on slowly after that. Finally, Fleur Delacour appeared too, but with no person at her side. Dread filled Dru's stomach—_maybe not everyone can be saved..._

"Where's her person?" Daphne quietly asked, looking just as pale and nervous as Dru did.

"Guess she didn't save them," Theo grunted, hugging Pansy tighter to him.

Blaise, who sat in front of them so he could chat with the Slytherin Quidditch team, turned back to them. "I thought they set up protective measures to ensure no one would die or become seriously harmed in the Tournament.

"Magic is dangerous," Dru replied, shivering to herself at her own words. Worry rotted in her stomach; she held Daphne closer to her. "Sometimes its consequences can't be prevented."

Then, suddenly, a head of inky-jet hair finally surfaced, leaving the stands in a thunderous roar. Harry had done it; he finished the Task, saving two people no less. Yet, Dru felt no easier as the judges announced their scores while the Champions and their chosen shivered in the February winter.

* * *

The aftermath of the Second Task was much of the same as the first: everyone bothered the Champions for a retelling of their heroic events under the murky and unknown depths of Black Lake. Dru already had a fair share of knowledge of the creatures and magical beings that took up residence in the legendary lake. She already knew of the Merpeople and the grindylows and the Giant Squid. What remained a mystery was just _how_ Harry Potter managed to find _gillyweed_ at the last minute. She had a sneaking suspicion that Dobby was involved, but needed confirmation.

So, she did the only thing she knew best—she cornered him at double Potions.

Dru and her friends paused themselves just outside of Potions, hoping to finish up their last bits of conversation before the ever-watchful, though heavily, heavily biased, head of house began the lesson. They were reading through the latest edition of _Witch Weekly_, where there was a laughable feature by the one and only Rita Skeeter about Harry himself.

"Oh!" Theo snickered, elbowing Dru to turn around. "Here she comes now!"

Pansy snatched the article from Dru's hands, shoving it into Hermione Granger's with a teasing sneer. "You might find something to interest you in there, Granger!"

Dru rolled her eye's at Pansy's remark, only giving the trio, heavily excluding the Weasel, a short nod, before returning back to their chat. She overheard Hermione's snort and the Weasel's "scarlet woman" comment but didn't bother a retort. She would hear about it soon enough when she addressed Harry during the lesson.

"Alright!" Blaise said, snatching Daphne's hand. "Time to go before Snape actually has to give us detention."

Dru easily maneuvered her way inside, loudly slamming her bag onto the table where Harry and Ron sat together, right in front of Ron's spot.

"What do _you_ want, Snake?" Ron snarled, harshly grinding his pestle into the table rather the mortar.

She snorted. "I would like to speak to Harry." He didn't move. "_Alone_, if you would be so kind."

"No way. Go back to your snakes over there."

"Ron..." Harry sighed. "It's alright, I need to talk to her anyway. Go sit with 'Mione."

Dru held her proud smirk as the Weasel grumbled his way over to the Gryffindor girl, who was explaining away the ridiculousness of the article with Neville and Padma in front of her. She chose to ignore Harry's annoyed look in favor to begin her interrogation.

"Alright then, _spill_."

Harry rolled his eyes, crushing the ingredients into the cauldron. "I thought you would've heard what happened by now."

"Please," Dru cackled, mashing the scarab beetle beside him. "Why would I bother with third-hand gossip when I can get the first-hand account from _the_ unbeatable Fourth Champion himself."

"Please don't call me that." Harry winced, looking around for Professor Snape. He was currently harassing Hermione for possessing the _Witch Weekly_ article and was making his prowl towards them.

She shrugged, waiting to retort after Snape sent her a furious look and an even nastier glare at Harry. As soon as he set his eyes on Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan, Dru rounded back to Harry. "Please, like you secretly don't adore it."

"I don't, actually."

She nodded. "Fair enough. Anyways, so how _did_ you manage to snatch that gilly weed? Wouldn't be thanks to my _ex_-house-elf?"

Harry gulped, paling as he stared at her. "How did you know?!"

"I caught him while he was searching for you. Honestly, if it wasn't for me, then he most likely would not have been able to find you in time. And if it wasn't for _him_, you certainly would've failed. You better thank him thoroughly when you see him next. A nice pair of socks will do, yes? More importantly, however, where were you before the task?"

"Prefect's bathroom..."

Dru raised a brow, snorting to herself. "I won't even bother asking _why_ you were in there—"

"It's not what you think—!"

"Shh!" Dru hissed, grey eyes flashing as she watched Professor Snape glare at their table. "Honestly, it's like you _want_ him to deduct points from you every class."

"I don't," said Harry, grumbling to himself. He began slicing the ginger roots. "He's always hated me."

"Then don't antagonize him. Anyways, you do realize that the gillyweed comes from his private storage, yes?"

Harry blinked. "How, how did you know that?"

"Unlike you, Professor Snape actually likes me and sees me as the best potioneer in our year. Sometimes, for extra credit, he'll let me help organize and clean his stock."

"You would be the one to brag about that."

"And I don't see why it's such a bad thing, to be on a potentially helpful person's good side. You need to focus on the big picture, Harry."

"Do you think he noticed?" Harry hopefully asked.

Dru looked at Professor Snape, who icy glare never yielded from Harry's head. "Oh, no, he _definitely_ noticed. I'd run as soon as the section is over if I were you."

Harry sighed, whining to Dru, "Just help me measure this bile and escape from his wrath and I'll tell you everything that happened under the lake."

She smirked, her canines glimmering brightly in the eery dungeon's light. "Why, Harry, you're becoming more and more Slytherin every day!"

Harry only snorted, returning back to the potion brewing, missing Dru's thoughtful glance as she bit her lip, measuring out the bile as he requested. _Would you still be friends with a Slytherin, a Death Eater's daughter, like me if you knew what was coming..?_

* * *

Father's warning and Blaise's advice continued to haunt her as the year progressed further. The usual panic of the fifth-years and seventh-years alike always amused her. Yet, now, as she stood at the precipice of surely her last casual year before the madness of her last three years at Hogwarts, she couldn't help but feel a slither of sympathy for them. But only that. She had far more pressing matters to concern herself: the inevitable return of Lord Voldemort.

The thought of it alone terrified her. It left her blood freezing over, her pulse quickening and her breath shortening. The fact that she _had_ met him before his ultimate demise—or so everyone believed it was to be, but Dru knows better. It still left her gasping for breath. According to dear ole Auntie Bella during one of only two visits to Azkaban with Mother, he even _held_ her as a child—"Oh, Ellie, dear! _The_ Dark Lord held you close to his chest. It was then I knew I fought for the right man—the chosen one! Your stupid pudgy little face wouldn't stop crying though, so he quickly dropped you back into Cissy's hands, but still! The honor!"

Mother quickly stopped her rambling about _him_. Dru was only eight when she was told this, but even as young as she was, she felt the utter disgust of the idea of being touched by someone as horrifying and cruel as him. Dru was never a girl for much touching lest by people she deemed worthy; so the event irked her even more so.

However, what has lately been crawling under her skin was the thought of _why_ he had done that. From the stories, publications, and first-hand accounts of Lord Voldemort, he utterly detested everything. Nothing ever appeased him unless it some semblance of victory or bloodshed. So why did he bother holding a one-year-heir of the Malfoy fortune? If she knew one thing, it was that the darkest wizard of their time was as shrewd and manipulative as he was brilliant in his dueling. He must certainly had a motive in his actions, and Dru was dying to know just what it is.

Until then, she would have to distract herself for preparing for the Third Task.

"So then, I vote using Ron as the dummy for you to practice the stunning spell." Dru easily suggested, enjoying how it irked the ginger.

"'Ey!" He growled, looking towards Harry. "Why do I have to be stunned?"

"Well _one_ of us will have to be practice for Harry," Hermione said. "And I was the dummy yesterday!"

"Exactly!" He insisted, pointing towards a smug Dru. "So it's her turn. Ladies first, right?"

"So you agree then, Weasel, that you should go first!"

"Dru, why don't you just teach me that spell you said you used at the Quidditch Cup. The, um, what's it called—"

"The _knock-back jinx_?" Dru guessed. Harry nodded. "I don't know Harry. It might take you too long to learn..."

"How long did it take for you to learn?"

"Oh about less than two weeks I suppose, when I was in second-year."

"_Second-year_?!" Hermione gasped. "You learned a high-level dueling spell that young? Do you know how many _rules_ that's breaking?"

Dru shrugged. "Wasn't an important consideration at the time. I needed to tell off Crabbe and Goyle to stop following me somehow. Honestly, such nuisances they are."

"Why would it take me so long then, Dru?"

"How should I put this... I believe that I am more... _equipped_ to tackle more difficult charms and jinxes then you are considering the time frame and available practicing time than you, Harry."

Harry blinked before frowning. "You think you're better than me?"

"Yes, if you would like to put it that frankly."

"Why is she here, again?" Ron whined.

She retorted, silver eyes flashing. "Because I'm _certainly_ more useful than your pathetic whines and grumbling."

"Yeah, but did _you_ save him first-year from a Wizard's chess match to the _death_?!"

"Ronald! It was most certainly not a death—!" Hermione corrected but was interrupted by Dru.

"Did _you_ save him from Death Eaters last summer at the Quidditch Cup?!"

"Alright, enough!" Harry shouted, face a furious shade of red as his two friends quickly looked to him, surprised by his sudden burst of anger. "_Neither _of you are helping me right now! Ron, you're helping me with the Stunning spell tomorrow. Dru, you're helping me with that jinx later tonight. Got it!"

Dru snorted but reluctantly agreed. The bell rung soon after, letting her free from the impossibly infuriating Weasel. She tensely walked beside Hermione in silence on their way to Arithmancy, wondering why she even bothered with these twats in the first. Hermione didn't bother with idle chit chat, too deep in her thoughts about something else. Dru appreciated that.

They parted ways as soon as they entered the classroom. Hermione took to her spot beside the only Hufflepuff in the class. Dru easily slid into her spot beside Blaise, ignoring his curious glance her way.

* * *

"Only you would be able to 'accidentally' look into a Pensieve, Harry." Dru chortled, preparing herself to play the dummy for Harry's practice.

Harry rolled his eyes. "_Flipendo!_" A shot blasted from his wand, barely missing Dru as it hit the old stone with a muffled thud. He pouted, readying himself again.

"You need to actually _look_ at where you're pointing, Harry.:

"I am! I don't see you trying as hard—!"

"_Flipendo!_" Dru smirked to herself as she saw Harry fly backward into his own set of pillows.

"You were saying?"

Harry slowly made his way back onto his feet, his emerald eyes flashing. Oh, now she really poked the troll.

"_Flipendo!_" Dru was taken aback as she fell with a harsh thud to the stone flooring, her head just barely missing the pillows. "Dru!"

She waved him away as he hurried towards her, ignoring his hand as she slowly stood. That was sure to leave a large knot for a day or two, but she felt fine otherwise. Maybe Harry's luck was rubbing off on her? She looked to him, taken aback by his guilty eyes. "I didn't realize I had to get your knickers in a twist for you to actually duel me, Harry. It's just like our second year all over again!"

Harry shivered, thinking back to the impossibly large snake she had conjured to attack him. "Yeah... just like our second year..."

She raised a brow at him, choosing to sit on the fluffy and velvety pillow. Harry joined her, still uneasy. "Did that duel honestly bother you, Harry?"

He shrugged. "I didn't exactly realize I would have to deal with hearing snake's talk to me that day."

Dru nodded. "Fair enough, I suppose." She looked to him, narrowing her eyes when she realized he had detoured her away from their previous conversation. "Harry, you never finished telling me what you saw in the Pensieve. Did you see anything else after Ludo Bagman's trial?"

He seemed reluctant to share the last trial with her, but she egged him on with her stormy eyes. He sighed to himself before finally relenting, leaning back on his hands as he looked away from her. "There was one more trial I saw before Dumbledore pulled me back. It was of the torturing of Alice and Frank Longbottom, Neville's parents."

Dru's face whitened as she realized just what he had seen; _who_ he had seen... She tried to control her heart as he prattled on, talking about how Barty Crouch Jr. was one of the accused, as well as two other men and a bizarre and insane woman. "She had these crazy hooded eyes, Dru. It, it was like she was _drunk_ on the idea of what she had done. She kept saying how Voldemort will come back again, but that certainly can't happen... Dru?" She finally looked at him, nervous about how easily he looked concerned for her. She hated it. "What's wrong?"

She shrugged. "Nothing really."

He frowned. "I thought you said no more holding back important information, Dru."

"Very Slytherin of you to say." She drily chuckled, folding more into herself when she realized she was trapped by her own words just months ago. "I... Well... The woman who saw. The maniac one... She's my Auntie Bella. Bellatrix Lestrange."

Harry stared at her, hating how he couldn't say anything. It's just that he was suddenly bombarded with the reminder that she came from a family of Death Eaters. Her father, and now her aunt, had played a role in his parents' deaths. Her family slaughtered and tortured so many before they were finally stopped. He forgot how much he was supposed to despise her. Here she was, with both of her parents and family members to spare, while he had only Sirius. And he couldn't even see his own godfather! How was this fair? How was any of this fair?!

"I, I knew she did _something _horrendous to Neville's parents. That's why I always avoid him whenever I can. But, I, I never realized she had driven them to insanity."

Harry didn't bother saying anything. He was too consumed by own blood curdling for anger towards her. He looked at her, his green eyes flashing furiously. He opened his mouth to tell her just _what_ her family had done. Done to him, done to his friends, and done to his family.

Then, she looked at him. And suddenly, he _couldn't_ be angry. It was like she forced it out of him with how shameful and regretful she looked. She honestly seemed sorry for what she did. Harry sighed then, becoming more annoyed and angry with himself with how easily she disarmed him. Hermione and Ron never did that to him. Maybe Hermione, sometimes, when's seriously crying like how she was with how rudely Ron treated her at the ball and why they had argued so much during their third year. Never like this though. And it was so _unfair_ that she was able to do that to him, while she always remained unaffected.

Harry chewed on his next words, wondering just what he should say. He was never much good at comforting his friends. He was good at acting as the middle-man with how often Ron and Dru squabbled. But he was at a loss of words.

"I don't expect you to tell me it's alright, Harry." Dru finally offered, her voice unusually quiet. Harry looked at her, _really_ looked at her. He swore she saw her shiver despite how warm it was in the room. "I know what they have done, but I still love them. Family first, _always_."

Harry only nodded, placing a hand on her shoulder like how she had done for him last year in the tunnel. It seemed to work, as she deeply inhaled. Gathering herself together, Dru stared at Harry, wondering if she should tell him the rumors she heard from Father and Blaise—the inevitable return of Voldemort.

"Harry..." She slowly started. "Headmaster Dumbledore isn't wrong with his worries for the Dark Lord. There's... there's rumors that he may actually return."

"I, I know, Dru," Harry whispered. Dru looked to him, shocked. "I, I think I see him sometimes... With these, these visions."

She curiously stared at him, waiting for him to continue. He said, "I had one today, actually. It was of Wormtail, oh, um, you remember him from last year, right?" Dru nodded. "Right, anyways. I saw him with... _him_. Voldemort said he hadn't entirely screwed up with his task. He said he wouldn't feed him to Nagini... He said he would save that for me; then, he tortured him."

Dru gulped away the sudden bile threatening to escape. He had seen him. Actually seen him!

"Harry!" She hissed, looking around again for nosy ghosts and poltergeists alike. "Have you told Headmaster Dumbledore about this?"

He shakily nodded. "Yeah. It's why I went to see him in his office."

Dru shuddered to herself, hugging her chest as she tried to calm herself down. But she couldn't. Her chest kept painfully tightening, squeezing out her breath and dignity. Harry looked mildly worried for his friend; his eyes bulged when she seemed to turn pale.

"Dru! Breathe!"

She let out a ragged breath, gasping for air. She had lost herself to The Nothingness again. It always seemed to haunt her ever since her second year—an unwelcome stalker, always within reach but never within sight.

"Sorry. I, I don't know what came over me. Maybe we should end for the night, Harry."

"Yeah," He agreed, hurriedly standing up to leave the impossibly hot and suffocating room. He offered his hand again to Dru. Surprisingly, she took it. He gave it a gentle squeeze before letting go. Harry practically bolted for the door as Dru waved for the pillows to be returned to their proper cabinets. She wasn't far behind him as they quietly hid under his cloak.

They didn't share say anything else as they walked to the Slytherin's dungeon. Both were too spooked to say anything. She barely offered him a farewell before scurrying into the common room. No one, surprisingly, was in it. She stomped past it, hurriedly walking down the spiraling staircase towards her room.

Sleep was hard for her that night; she laid awake, thinking of the possibilities of her family's survival through the coming years.

* * *

Harry's words followed her as the rest of the school year progressed. And she did the only thing she knew would protect her—she avoided him. Whenever she saw him in the halls, she hurriedly fled the other direction or lowered her head. Somewhere in her mind, she thought if she didn't acknowledge him, then everything would be fine.

Maybe Father and Blaise were right; maybe her friendship with him was too troublesome for its worth. She couldn't the rising fear clutching her heart so tightly in her chest whenever she saw him. She saw him and instantly thought of the Dark Lord. His reign would return along with her family's subjugation. She would never truly be free, safe from his knobbly fingers. Dru couldn't stop this fear from overwhelming her. So she avoided him, ignored his waves and nods in the hall.

Maybe he'll just go away, along with all of her worries and anxieties.

Hermione wouldn't let her though.

"You've been avoiding us, Dru!" She accused one afternoon, several days before the Final Task. She had caught her one her way from the Library, studying and preparing for her exams.

Dru rolled her eyes. "Yes, and you're interfering with that. So, if you'll excuse me."

"No!" Hermione insisted, bratty and nosy as ever. No wonder Weseal always quarreled with her. "Not until you apologize to Harry for upsetting him. He's gotten all worried about why you haven't been talking to him. Honestly! He's as bad as Ron was when they weren't talking."

"I don't have to tell him anything, Hermione." Dru retorted, narrowing her eyes at the bushy-haired witch. "It's between Harry and me, so it's none of your concern."

"You owe him an explanation at least!" She hissed. "That's what good friends do."

Dru glared furiously at her. "Did you know he could see _him_, the Dark Lord?"

Hermione blinked, before slowly nodding. "Yes. He's been having visions on and off this past year, but nothing too troublesome. That one in Divination was the worst yet, but he's fine for the most part."

"As bright as you are, you are certainly oblivious to the implications of what you say." Dru tiredly said. "If Harry is seeing Voldemort, then he is growing stronger, Hermione. I do not seek the pleasure of keeping company with the likes of him. If it means keeping away from Harry, then so be it."

"You're just a coward!" Hermione all but yelled, her cheeks furiously reddening as she shoved a finger into her shoulder.

"It's called self-preservation."

The Gryffindor snorted. "Please! Harry has the unfortunate hand of having to _see_ these visions! You only hear the second-hand from him. If he can bare through them, then you owe it to him to support him as a friend."

Dru groaned when she realized the witch may be right. "Will you leave me if I yield to seeing him later tonight after supper?"

Hermione beamed. "Happily. Make sure you apologize to him!"

She left a cranky Dru behind with the indignant flutter of her gait. Now, Dru had to something she absolutely despised—apologizing.

* * *

She caught him leaving the Great Hall, just after supper. Hermione saw Dru slowly approaching the inseparable trio. Dru barely heard Hermione saying she had to tutor the Weasel in Transfiguration before quickly departing for their common room, dragging a protesting Weasel behind.

"Hullo, Harry." She quietly greeted.

Harry turned to her, a frown adorning his face. "What do you want, Dru?"

She sighed, wrinkling her nose before peering a quick glance at him. Merlin, she felt like a child with how he suddenly seemed mountains and years taller than her. "A talk?"

"I need to practice the spells for the Final Task, Dru."

"Please?"

Harry blinked; she was never one for begging and niceties. Maybe she was sincere after all. "Fine. Follow me."

She silently followed him as they turned down an empty corridor adjacent to the Great Hall. She recognized it as the same side she had caught him the night he was announced as a Champion. He led them into the closet again, letting her shut it behind him before speaking to her.

"Well?"

She chewed her lip. "I'm sorry."

"Really?" Harry said, startled by her sudden apology. He's expected her usual tirade where somehow, with her eloquent wording and run-on phrases, _he_ would be the one apologizing to her like he always seemed to do. Maybe Slytherins _could_ change.

"Yes, let me finish!" She hissed, drawing out a chuckle from him when she smacked his shoulder. "I apologize for not being a good friend lately. I was, rightfully... disturbed by your admission about seeing Lord Voldemort. I, I was terrified, Harry..."

He nodded solemnly. He knew this fear all too well. For years, he has haunted him. "It's fine, Dru. Just... Don't do that again. C'mon now, you have to help me practice my spells tonight. I think I find myself especially behind with that stunning spell and jelly-leg jinx."

She scoffed, knocking his shoulder with her knuckles before following him towards the empty Charms classroom once again. Perhaps things would be alright after all, seeing as how quickly Harry had forgiven her. Maybe she was terrified for nothing?

* * *

"Look what they did to the Pitch!" Pansy shrieked, excitedly tugging on Dru's and Blaise's arms. She practically skipped to the unrecognizable field. Thick hedges, as tall as almost ten meters towered before them. The night was especially hazy and dark under the new moon, leaving only the flaming lamps and torches to illuminate the actual impossibility of the task.

She believed in Harry; there was no doubt he would do brilliantly. However... Dru also believed in probability thanks to her years in Arithmancy. Somehow, Harry _will_ run out of luck. Merlin, please let it not be tonight.

"No wonder they canceled Quidditch this year." Theo chuckled to himself. "Imagine having to find the Snitch in _that_, Dru!"

Pansy happily sang her agreement. "I'm so happy I don't have to go into that."

Daphne looked to Dru, uneasy by how nervous her friend seemed. She grasped her hand gently, slowly squeezing it. Dru looked to her before sharing her rare grins. It was times like these that Dru realized how lucky she was to have such wonderful friends. What would she do without them?

They quickly filed into their seats with the Slytherin House, proudly wearing Hufflepuff year in support of Cedric Diggory. Dru, however, managed to convince Hermione to share some of the charmed Gryffindor paint. She reluctantly wore the brilliant maroon on her cheeks, just above her Hufflepuff yellow.

The crowd fell into a great silence when they saw Ludo Bagman raise a hand over the crowd. Using his wand as a microphone, he addressed the buzzing audience.

"Ladies and Gentleman, the Final Task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament!"

Dru joined the thunderous roar of students and professors alike, their excitement igniting a sudden rush of adrenaline in her veins.

"The four Champions will be tasked with finding the Triwizard Cup within the center of the maze! Bewarned, my brave wizards and witch. Great and perilous challenges await you inside the maze. Only the brightest and most courageous will find themselves tasting victory! Now then, Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory, tied in first place with eighty-five points, will enter first. Viktor Krum, with 80 points, will soon follow, finally followed by Fleur Delacour.

"While it may seem unfair that the Hogwarts Champions have such a lead, but a great Champion will overcome any disadvantage when given the opportunity of greatness!"

The audience cheered with his final words, standing to see Harry and Cedric line up several meters from the start of the Maze.

Ludo Bagman nodded to both, before raising his wand. "On my mark, gentlemen. READY!" A sudden burst of gold spark shot from his wand, marking the beginning of the Final Task.

Dru couldn't stomach the growing knot of fear within her stomach as she watched Krum and Delacour shortly follow.

And it seemed her hunch was correct when only just past the halfway mark of the second hour when Harry Potter returned, dazed, sobbing, and raving. He hovered over the dead body of Cedric Diggory, proclaiming the return of the one everyone feared most.

The Dark Lord has returned.

* * *

Dru hadn't been able to see Harry until the morning after the Final Task. Barging through Madam Prompfrey's insistence that Harry couldn't handle any more visitors, she now found herself facing the matriarch of the Weasleys and her eldest son.

"What is _she_ doing here?!" The mother shrieked, her eyes flaming fiercely as she placed herself in between Harry and her.

"I've come to check on Harry," Dru coldly answered, refusing to yield from the mother's wrath.

"Like Hell, I'll let the daughter of a _death eater_ harass him!"

"Mrs. Weasley!" Hermione cried, tugging on her arm gently. "She's his friend too! She's been helping him prepare for his tasks all year."

She snorted. "And look where's that gotten him!"

Dru rolled her eyes, catching the familiar mop of raven head curiously staring at her. "I believe that Harry _alone_ reserves the right of who he wishes to see. Why don't you ask him yourself, seeing as how your shouting awoke him."

Mrs. Weasley glared at her, followed by a terrifying growl. Dru finally looked to Harry's bed, realizing an impossibly large black dog laid on it, its hackles raised and baring its yellowed and sharp teeth. She gulped, realizing it was the same dog she had seen just the year before during her time in the Infirmary. Bloody Merlin, just why was it here now?!

"It's alright, Mrs. Weasley." Harry finally spoke, his voice too soft and scratchy. "Snuffles! It's alright."

She watched the dog hop off the bed, joining Hermione and Ron's side as she slowly approached Harry. Finally looking to him, she saw just how exhausted and ill he looked. She chewed her lip worriedly, rashly deciding to hold Harry's hand as she spoke to him.

"I wanted to see that you were alright—" But Dru was never able to finish what she was saying as Cornelius Fudge, swiftly followed by Professor McGonagall, broke into the Infirmary, screaming like banshees at each other. It was only when Headmaster Dumbledore entered that they stopped, but only to continue as he spoke the truth everyone knew but wished was lies.

"Voldemort has return, Cornelius, whether we wish it to be fiction or not."

The minutes that followed left Dru in a whirlwind of emotions. She listened, standing closely by Harry's side, as he argued for taking actions against him before he rose to too much power too quickly. She glared at Minister Fudge as he allowed himself to hide behind his lust for power and a false sense of security as he called Harry and him mad and lunatics. She watched as he refused to take action, fleeing the scene to handle the mistakes of letting Barty Crouch Jr. to die at the hands of the Dementor's Kiss. She silently observed as Dumbledore suddenly took to ordering others: Billius Weasley was sent back to contact his Father and to begin spreading the word of the truth of Voldemort's return, Professor McGonagall was to fetch Hagrid and Madam Maxime and to bring them to his office, and Madam Pomfrey was to care for Winky, the grieving elf, to Dobby. Dru perked at the sound of her beloved elf, deciding to visit him once before she was to leave Hogwarts.

But she was soon halted when Professor Dumbledore realized just who else was in the Infirmary.

"Ms. Malfoy," He curtly greeted. She straightened immediately, letting her hand of Harry go as she scurried before him. "I must ask for you to wait outside for Professor Snape to escort you back to the dormitories. These are private matters, and I am afraid that you should not be made privy to them for your protection. I am sure Harry appreciates your comfort and friendship at this time."

She reluctantly nodded. "Of course, Headmaster." She looked to Harry again, and briefly Hermione, as she walked out of the Infirmary. She didn't wait long for Professor Snape to walkout soon after, briefly looking to her before taking lead towards the Dungeons.

"I didn't realize just how... friendly, you were with Potter, Druella." He drawled, his disdain clear in his voice.

It ruffled Dru's feathers as she retorted, "We are friends, yes, and I do not see how that should be of anyone's concern."

She ignored his displeased hum; they walked in silence, leaving Dru to mull over this thought for too long.

"Professor," She began, her words uncharacteristically shaky and fretful. "Do you believe what Headmaster Dumbledore said to be true? About Voldemort and Cedric Diggory?"

Her Head of House looked curiously at her, before replying. "Dumbledore is a man of a rarity in this dismal wizarding age. He has integrity and character, a truly respectful man. I trust his word to my dying breath, and I believe you should too."

Dru winced. Quietly, she asked the question that had been eating her soul and heart away bit by bit. "Will _he_ call for my father again?"

He faltered in his step slightly. "You know as well as I do that no one can ignore the Dark Lord's call, Druella. It's best for you to learn where to place your true loyalties, for the sake of your loved ones."

And he left her in silence with that ominous warning, dismantling everything she ever believed in.

* * *

The End of the Year Feast was dismal at best. Once an occasion of joy and bittersweet goodbyes, it now was the unspoken funeral of Cedric Diggory.

Dru and her friends had been awfully quiet as the past week slowly crept by them. All of them knew the consequences of the Dark Lord's return. All of them knew that now they would soon be called to join him like their parents. Some, like Blaise and Daphne, may actually be spared. But for her, Theo, and Pansy, there was no choice. Bound to their Dark Lord in everything by the mark on their forearm. Dru's future was decided, and she despised every second of it.

She elected to not eat at the final feast, her stomach to sensitive to the palpable grief within the room. The paranoia and fear radiating off the professors and even Headmaster Dumbledore himself offered her no refuge from her own fears. Everyone quieted as he began his speech—a tribute to Cedric, the kind, honest, and loyal friend who sadly lost his life for only being good. Dru found herself too lost in her thoughts to pay much attention, but his last words resonated with her too strongly for her liking.

"Remember Cedric. Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort. Remember Cedric Diggory."

His words echoed through her head for the rest of the evening, leaving an even larger knot as she poured over their meaning. _To choose between what is right and what is easy..._

She almost missed Harry's distinguishable head of raven locks after supper. Quickly, she called for him.

"Dru," Harry said, but she quickly cut him off.

"I need to know." She earnestly said, gripping his sleeve too tightly. "Did you see him there, with Lord Voldemort. Did you see my Father?"

Harry balked at her, looking around before whispering harshly back, "Not so loud would you?"

"Tell me! Theo already told me that his father was all too happy to answer the Dark Lord's call. Please, I, I _must _know!"

Harry refused to look at her, and that was all she needed to know.

She bit back an oncoming sob. "I'm truly sorry for whatever happened, Harry. Please, be safe this summer. I, I do not know what is to come, but just know that I will always see you as a friend. No matter what. Will you do the same for me?"

She hated how he paused when he answered. Always unsure and neutral he was around her. She hated it! "You know I will, Dru. And I don't blame you. I know _who_ to blame now, and it's Lord Voldemort. Stay safe too. I'll... I'll see you around."

She hated how it sounded too much like a goodbye. She watched him leave her behind, losing herself to her emotions.

She ran to the girl's bathroom just around the next corridor. As she gathered herself with the realization that her father had sentenced her whole family to likely deaths, she decided she _must_ do something about it. Dru absolutely _hated_ how her friends seemed so despondent with their situation. They gave up already before they even _fought_ for their freedom and lives! It infuriated Dru so much that her blood curdled. She gave in to her rage for a split second, harshly slamming her hands onto the old porcelain sink. Well, if they wouldn't try to protect themselves, then she would. If her father would do the easy thing, then she must do the right thing. She only had her family, and she would do _anything_ to protect them. Even if it meant betraying them...

As she looked up into her reflection, she understood what she must do. _Family first, always!_

* * *

"Headmaster Dumbledore," Dru hesitantly spoke, intimated by the sheer strength and power behind the man before. She had entered his office thanks to Harry carelessly telling her his password. He sat before her, cold and intuitive to her discomfort. Yet, as she finally caught his eye, she saw the twinkle Harry spoke so fondly of. Maybe... _yes! Family first, always! I'm doing this for them; for their protection! If anyone can protect them, it's him. _"I, I would like to speak to you about something of great importance."

He smiled gently at her, his eyes beaming with pride and joy as if he knew she was always going to find him like this one day. It brought hope in her heart as it did for him.

"Yes, my dear, I do believe we have much to discuss."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Hello, my lovelies!**

**It's been quite a while since I have last seen you all. I hope you have enjoyed the lastest installment of Dru's journey. This year has surely been a favorite for me to write.**

**Over 40K+ words later, and we find ourselves with Dru realizing that maybe she and her family weren't as safe as she believed them to be. I thoroughly enjoyed writing her characterization arc this past chapter. I wanted to highlight the main priorities in her life: her family and friends. I always believed that Draco, no matter how cowardly he may have acted, would always do everything in his power to protect his family. I wanted to translate this into Dru's character, but to highlight the main difference between them. Dru is a woman of action, and Draco is simply not at the times that matter most.**

**We also see the development of Harry and Dru's friendship as well. Honestly, it's been such a joy to write, because it's always too uncommon to see such a female-lead act as much as she did. I loved their dynamic, and I cannot wait to deepen it come their fifth year. **

**Readers, I will leave you with this: please stay safe and healthy. The COVID-19 virus is a large part of why I kept delaying the posting of this chapter so much. I hope everything looks out for one another as we go through this tumultuous pandemic. I hope this chapter brought you some joy.**

**Until next time, my lovelies!**

**xx maurik**


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